


We Were Drunk and Got Engaged

by srmiller



Series: Emotionally Stunted But Working On It [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gen, Mutual Pining, PG up to the last chapter, then it gets a little smutty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-05-24 08:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6147052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/srmiller/pseuds/srmiller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>after a small existential crisis (and one too many shots) Bellamy and Clarke decide to get engaged. It's not until they wake up the next morning to find they posted it online do they start to think about the consequences--namely, after a congresswoman's daughter tweets she got engaged you can't just break up if you ever want to be taken seriously by anyone ever again. Also, there's no way Clarke is telling her mom she agreed to marry Bellamy while legally intoxicated. So the only solution, obviously, is to pretend to be engaged and hope Bellamy doesn't find out Clarke's actually in love with him</p><p>because there's never enough fake relationship aus on the internet</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. …And We Posted it On Facebook and Twitter

Clarke stood at the end of her bed and stared at her best friend who was looking at his phone through bleary, hungover eyes.

“Please tell me we didn’t actually do what I think we did.”

He glanced up at her and then back to his phone. “Not only did we do it princess, but I’m pretty sure if the notifications on my phone are any indicator you also posted it on Facebook.”

Clarke thought it was entirely possibly she was going to throw up right then and there. “Fuck.”

Bellamy threw his phone in her general direction, landing on the far corner of her bed, and flung his arm over his eyes as if the single ray of sunlight coming through the space of her blinds was enough to cause him pain.

 _Good._ It had been his stupid fault they were in this mess anyway.

She picked up his cell and put in his password, Octavia’s birthday the _nerd_ , and started to go through his Facebooks notifications and there amidst their mutual friends and his sister was one name which made her blood go cold and remove all vestiges of a hangover.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.”

“Keep the sound down, Clarke. Jesus.”

She bounced on the bed and he swore violently which she ignored because seriously, they had bigger fish to fry than a hangover. “My mom knows.”

Bellamy glared at her, but since he looked a little pale and a little cross eyed it didn’t hold its usual force. “Your mom knows what?”

“About this,” she snapped, putting his phone in his eye line and he groaned and tried to roll over but she shoved at his shoulder.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Too bad, because everyone else is.”

“Can’t it wait till the dwarves in my head stop pounding against my skull?”

“My mom knows,” she repeated as if he hadn’t heard her the first time.

“We’ll deal with it,” he snapped as he finally managed to roll over and buried his head in the pillow.

“How?”

“Delete the pictures and tell everyone, haha we were drunk.”

She heard the ringtone for her phone and looked around to find it on the floor, getting up (and feel the world title as she did) she picked up the phone to find multiple missed calls from her mother, texts from classmates, friends, and a call from Monty? Monty never called. Monty texted. Monty Facebook messaged. Monty did not call.

Pulling up his contact she called him while Bellamy stared at her through unfocussed eyes, his cheek pressed against the floral pattern of her pillow case. The image would have made her smile under any other circumstance.

“Monty? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know if you intended for you and Bellamy to make the news, but you did.”

Clarke looked up at Bellamy, a cold chill settling over her, and shifted the phone so she could put Monty on speaker. “What do you mean Bellamy and I made the news?”

“The Huffington Post,” he explained. “They have a news blurb about how Congresswoman Abigail Griffin’s daughter announced her engagement via Twitter.”

“I tweeted it?” Clarke mouthed to Bellamy who shrugged but rolled over to his back and picked up his phone. Clarke assumed he was pulling up the story and sure enough he turned the screen so she could see the photo she’d posted on Facebook which was now on the open internet for everyone to see.

“I uh, I didn’t realize anyone would think it was news.”

“Your mom’s in politics and there have been no tragedies lately,” Monty informed her cheerily. “Everything is news.”

“Well, it certainly explains all the calls I’ve gotten from my mom this morning. Thanks for the heads up Monty, I appreciate it.”

“Anytime. And, uh, congratulations you guys.”

Clarke looked up and she and Bellamy stared at each other long enough she could hear Monty breathing on the other end of the line. “Thanks. I’ll talk to you later.”

Clarke hung up the call and flopped onto the bed next to Bellamy so she was kind of resting her head on his shoulder.

“Okay, it’s one thing to tell my friends ‘haha I got drunk engaged’ it’s another thing entirely for me to tell the entire internet. My mom’s going to have a shit fest. ‘You’re telling me you got drunk and decided to get engaged to that Blake character?’” Clarke mimicked.

“Blake character?” Bellamy repeated, looking as if he wasn’t sure if he should be insulted.

“Do you make a lot of your life decisions drunk, Clarke?” she continued, making her voice ultra-serious in to order to sound like her mother.

“You did decide to quit medical school drunk,” Bellamy pointed out and she didn’t know if it was intentional or not but the back of his hand was brushing against the back of hers and it was distracting.

“Okay, no. Do. Not. Mention that. Ever.”

“So don’t tell her.”

Her phone went off again and even though she recognized the ringtone she raised her hand to look at the screen. “She’s calling again.”

“Is this a Voldemort thing? Are you not allowed to call her by name?”

“You’re not helping.”

“I’m hungover, I won’t be any help until I’ve had a very greasy meal and a lot of coffee.”

“This all your fault.”

“Okay.”

“I’m serious. It was your idea to get married.”

“You agreed.”

And because that was too awkward to contemplate with her mother’s face staring at Clarke from the screen of her phone she let it drop.

“Wait, what did you mean don’t tell her?”

“Don’t tell her we were drunk. We don’t look drunk in the picture, which I’m going to admit is a shocker.”

“So I just let her think we’re engaged?” her mom was sent to voicemail but Clarke knew her mother would be calling back within seconds.

“Look, if it’s a choice between pretending to be engaged for a few weeks and you being reamed by your mom about your life choices I’d rather she didn’t guilt you back into med school.”

“A few weeks?”

“Like four? We keep it up for a month and then take it down and say we broke up. It happens and it’s less scandalous.”

“A month?”

He didn’t mention the fact she was basically repeating everything he said and she wondered if he was being polite in the face of her panic or if he was just too hungover to notice. “It hardly takes four weeks for you to find a reason to be pissed at me.”

She turned her head to see him already looking at her and it was surprisingly not weird to look him in the eye with his hand against hers as they both laid in her bed talking about being engaged.

There was a hard thud of her heart against her ribs she studiously ignored.

“You’d be okay with that?”

“I don’t plan on marrying anyone else in that time frame.”

“But what if-“ the phone started ringing again and Bellamy rolled his eyes.

“Clarke, it’s fine. Answer the damn phone, I’m taking a shower.”

He pushed off the bed and she watched him walk away but before she could think about it-and talk herself out of it-she swiped the screen with her finger and greeted her mother.

“Hey.”

“Clarke. Is there something you’d like to tell me?”

Staring up at the ceiling she took a deep breath. “I got engaged?”

“To that Blake character.”

Clarke snorted, “Yes. To Bellamy.”

“And I had to find out on Facebook?”

There was a snap to Abby’s voice which would be totally warranted if she and Bellamy had actually gotten engaged without telling anyone so Clarke resisted the urge to get mad. “It was late and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“So you couldn’t wait to post it until after you’d talked to me?”

“We may have gotten a little carried away in the excitement,” which was actually true. She could remember laughing with Bellamy in her living as he gave her the ring and the multiple attempts to take a picture where neither of them was blurry from laughing.

“I want to meet him.”

Clarke sat up, closing her eyes to stave off the wave of dizziness. “You’ve already met him. Multiple times.”

“But not as your boyfriend and certainly not as your fiancé. How long have you been dating anyway?”

Clarke watched as Bellamy came back into her room, hair wet and wearing his clothes from yesterday. The quick shower would have seemed weird to her if she hadn’t known growing up he’d been forced to conserve as much water as possible to keep the bills from overwhelming from his mom. He’d told her once being poor was a hard habit to break. “How long have we been dating?”

Getting the hint Bellamy held up nine fingers and she wondered how he’d come up with the number so quickly.

“About nine months, but we’ve been friends for years.”

Bellamy scoffed as he sat down on the bed, she kicked him in the back.

“That’s quick, Clarke.”

“I know, but when you know you know,” she murmured, catching Bellamy’s eye over his shoulder and seeming to remember what had started this whole mess in the first place he put a hand on her knee and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“Then I want you both to come for dinner this weekend, we’ll figure out a time which works for everyone.”

Clarke knew ‘everyone’ included not only herself, Bellamy, and Abby, but Abby’s new husband as well.

She still wasn’t totally certain how she felt about Marcus Kane at the family table but he was there and likely not going anywhere so she was going to have to deal with it.

“Okay. I’m pretty sure we’re free on Sunday so let me know what time works for you guys and we’ll make it work on our end.”

Abby made an affirming noise but didn’t hang up so Clarke just waited while Bellamy studied her, having only heard her side of the conversation he was probably wondering what ‘we’re free on Sunday’ meant.

“I hope…I hope you’re happy.”

Clarke actually thinks she might choke up because of how awkward and sincere her mother sounds and she managed a nod even though her mother can’t see it. “Thanks Mom, I’ll see you soon.”

She hung up the phone and ignored Bellamy’s hand _still_ on her knee.

“What is happening Sunday?”

“We’re having dinner with my mom and stepdad.”

He pales, which is actually kind of hilarious.

“What? Fuck, no. I didn’t sign up for that.”

Sitting up Clarke smiles, “You did when you proposed to me.”

“It was a joke,” he called to her retreating back as she headed toward the bathroom to shower.

He got up and followed her, standing in the bathroom doorway as she turned on the shower. “I did not agree to go to your mom’s house for dinner.”

“Then you shouldn’t have proposed to me,” Clarke shrugged, turning to face him.

“I hate you.”

“God, you’re like a fairy tale prince Bellamy. I don’t understand how I resisted you all these years.”

She heard him laugh before she shut the door in his face.


	2. ...And Now We Have to Explain it to Our Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's one thing when you wake up engaged to your friend, but it's another when you wake up engaged to your friend AND NO ONE IS SURPRISED

Keeping his eyes closed to keep the nausea at bay Bellamy groaned at the sound of his phone vibrating across Clarke’s bed.

Reaching out blindly he picked it up and squinted at the screen, wincing at the smiling face of his sister on his caller id.

“Speak slowly and quietly,” he greeted.

“Bellamy, what the hell?”

He winced at the sound of her practically yelling in his ear. “O, I love you but right now what I need is terrible food and about a gallon of coffee. I will talk to you later.”

There was a shuffle of sound on the other side of the phone and Bellamy grinned at his niece making soft gurgling sounds in the background. “Lincoln says if you and Clarke come over with an explanation he’ll make you hangover food.”

Bellamy was prepared to make an altar to worship his mostly-brother-in-law. “You did good with him, Octavia. Never let me tell you otherwise. Clarke’s in the shower right now but we’ll be over as soon as she’s out.”

“Okay, but-“

Not waiting for her to finish the sentence he hung up and dropped the phone back on the bed wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into.

Engaged to Clarke Griffin?

What the fuck had he been thinking?

He’d been thinking he’d been more than half in love with her since he’d met her, one of the few people who stood up to him, who argued with him, and while Octavia rarely let him get away with any shit it had been Clarke who had made him start thinking maybe there was another way to live.

It couldn’t be a coincidence, after all, it was shortly after he met her he started looking at the world with a little less anger and a little more optimism.

Damn her, it had been easier when he could convince himself he didn’t care.

Sometimes, he missed misanthropy.

Then he thought of his life without her now that he knew what it was like to have her involved in nearly every aspect of it...The fact he sometimes needed to put his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out to her, or hadn’t been in a serious relationship in years because he automatically compared every woman to Clarke was just something he’d learned to deal with. No matter how funny, beautiful, or good they were they could never _be_ Clarke and he was forced to walk away.

It wasn’t fair to the woman or himself.

But he never walked away from Clarke because as much as hated being around her and not being _with_ her Bellamy imagined life without would that much harder. He thought about maybe adding masochist to his resume.

“Are you going to get off my bed anytime today?”

“Octavia and Lincoln will feed us if we go over and tell them what happened,” he answered to Clarke as he heard her moving around the room and because he remembered she hadn’t taken any clothes with her and she was likely walking around in just a towel he kept his eyes closed.

“Thank God,” he heard a drawer open and shut. “I’ll dry my hair and we can go.”

“Cool.” His phone rang again and because he assumed it was Octavia he picked it up with the intention of silencing it but it was Raven’s picture flipping him off.

“What the hell is going on?” she greeted.

“Long story,” Bellamy evaded, studying the intricate design of flowers Clarke had drawn on her ceiling and studiously not thinking about Clarke getting dressed a few feet away from him.

“Did you knock her up?”

Bellamy laughed hard enough Clarke came out of the bathroom, dressed but her hair still wet. “Hold on. I’m going to put you on speaker. I’m with Clarke and I want you to repeat your last question.”

“Did you knock up Clarke? Is that why you’re getting married?”

Bellamy grinned at Clarke’s look, a little insulted and shocked. “That’s the only reason Bellamy would ask me to marry him?”

There was a smirk in Raven’s voice. “Do I think there’s a chance Bellamy ravished you and you ended up pregnant? Yes. Do I think Bellamy is disgustingly old fashioned and would want to ‘do the right thing?’ Yes.”

Clarke crossed her arms and Bellamy wasn’t sober enough to deal with any amount of cleavage so he looked back down at the phone as Clarke indignantly refuted their friend’s claims. “I’m not pregnant Raven.”

She didn’t sound entirely convinced, “If you say so.”

“We say so,” Bellamy retorted. “I’ll catch up with you later and explain the details unless you’re busy with the engineer.”

Clarke met Bellamy’s eyes and mouthed ‘engineer?’

“Screw you, Blake.”

Raven hung up and Bellamy dropped the phone on his, haha, fiancée’s bed.

“What engineer?” Clarke asked as she went back to the bathroom. With nothing better to do Bellamy stood up to follow her, running a hand through his still damp hair.

“This guy at her grad school. His name is Kyle Wick and she’s dead set against being into him which makes her being into him all the more hilarious.”

“Kyle Wick? Isn’t that one of Monty’s friends from college?”

She picked up her towel and started rubbing her hair dry and Bellamy was aware of a strange twisting in his stomach. This wasn’t the first time he’d watched her get ready for the day, he’d seen her more than once get ready for one of her mother’s political parties but there was something different about watching her go through the motions with his ring on her hand.

It should probably make a difference the engagement ring was purchased from a grocery store’s quarter machine at 2am but it didn’t.

He cleared his throat and put his hands safely in his pockets in case they should get any ideas. “One and the same. He’s apparently had a crush on her forever but she was with Finn.”

“And now she isn’t.”

Bellamy leaned against the doorframe as she put toothpaste on her brush. “I think he’s trying to romance her with science and Raven doesn’t know what to do with him, it’s hysterical.”

“You’re a terrible friend,” Clarke pointed out around the toothbrush.

“And yet you still agreed to marry me,” he quipped back with a grin.

She spat into the sink, rinsed her mouth and smiled at him as she leaned her hip against the sink and it all felt so damn domestic Bellamy couldn’t help the part of him which wanted this for good. “Yeah, starting to regret that now.”

“Only now?” he asked as she walked past him to put on her shoes. “Your face is doing something weird.”

“I’m hungover,” he evaded. “You ready yet? I need bacon.”

Clarke nodded and they headed to her car _-“I’m too hungover to drive”_ \- and when they got to Lincoln and Octavia’s house Bellamy nearly cried at the smell of grease and eggs coming from the kitchen.

Lincoln made the best hangover food. Few people knew the reason why was because he’d spent a good portion of his youth hungover in one form or another and even though he hadn’t touched a drink in seven years his skills with a spatula and skillet never went to waste and Bellamy couldn’t be more grateful for those skills than he was right then. And for his niece.

If Lincoln’s hangover breakfast didn’t cure his foggy head, the wiggling body of his niece on his lap was a pretty good backup plan.

“It was supposed to be one of those, haha if we don’t find someone in five years we should marry each other types of deals,” Clarke explained around a bite of bacon as she and Bellamy sat at the breakfast counter while Octavia and Lincoln absently cleaned the kitchen while listening to the story.

“And then we realized there was very little chance we’d find someone who would put up with our shit baggage-“

“My dad, his mom.”

“So we figured we might as well save ourselves the five years and just do it,” Bellamy finished, draining what was left of his coffee.

“It seemed pretty logical at the time.”

“Vodka logic,” Octavia commented, sharing a look with her more-or-less-husband which Bellamy couldn’t quite translate but knew didn’t bode particularly well for him so he ignored it and bounced his knee to keep the infant on his lap giggling.

“That was probably a factor,” he admitted.

“So you’re just going to pretend to be engaged?” Lincoln asked.

“Basically. More than anything it’s to prevent my mom from giving me shit about my life decisions. If I give her an opening with something like getting drunk engaged imagine what she’ll do with my decision to go to art school. Not to mention the announcement was online and I don’t want to be the politician’s daughter who gets engaged and then breaks it off hours later. I need to be hirable at some point in my life.”

“Do you really think you have what it takes to pull off being engaged?” Lincoln sounded dubious, which for some reason he couldn’t quite explain insulted Bellamy.

“I think we can pretend to like each other for a few weeks,” Bellamy shrugged. Picking up his niece and grinning into her eyes. “What do you think Clara? Do you think the princess can get off her high horse for a few weeks?”

Clarke rolled her eyes but absently scratched the baby’s back.

“Did you guys see Jasper’s comments on your photo?”

Bellamy and Clarke shared a grimace at Octavia’s question. He’d read off the thread of comments on the drive over. “Something along the lines of ‘I always knew you crazy kids would get together,’” Bellamy shrugged. “He’s a weird dude.”

There had been other comments along the lines ‘OH MY GOD’ and a lot of question marks but for now Clarke and Bellamy had agreed not to respond.

“He’s been swearing you guys secretly have the hots for each other for years,” Octavia smirked. “He was starting to give up hope and now even if you guys break up in a month he’s still going to believe you’re soul mates torn apart by the universe.”

“He’ll probably set up some kind of Parent Trap scenario,” Lincoln added and Bellamy glared at the sound of amusement in the other man’s voice.

“Which you will not help him with,” Bellamy warned.

“Depends on what I’m doing that day,” Lincoln argued with a grin. “Don’t you have classes you need to be at? It’s getting late.”

“No, I don’t have classes till later this afternoon.”

Clarke swore under her breath as she glanced at the time then looked down at Clara with a grimace. “Sorry. I do have to go, do you want me to give you a ride back to your car?”

Bellamy shook his head and snagged a bite of her left over food. “Nah, I’ll get one of these two give me a ride. I’ll see you later.”

Clarke touched his arm before reaching out to hug Octavia and kiss Lincoln’s cheek. “I’ll see you guys later. Bye, honey.”

Bellamy laughed, “Bye sweetheart.”

Half an hour later with Lincoln off to the hospital where he worked in the Peds department Octavia deigned to take Bellamy back to Clarke’s apartment to get his car, Clara happily talking to herself in the backseat. “What time is your dinner with the future mother-in-law?”

Bellamy ignored the bait, “It’s Sunday at seven.”

“Sunday dinner with the family,” she mused and Bellamy didn’t fail to notice Octavia’s gaze boring holes into skull. “Those are never fun.”

He sighed, “I was an ass. How long exactly do I have to apologize for that dinner?”

“At least until Clara’s five,” Octavia assured him with a laugh. “Are you really okay with this?”

“It was my idea,” he reminded her. “Why?”

She shrugged but it was the least convincing shrug Bellamy had ever seen. “No reason.”

“Bullshit.”

Octavia stared at him for a moment but seeming to understand he wasn’t letting her get away with that as an answer she sighed. “Fine, Jasper’s not the only one who thought you and Clarke would end up together.”

“Really.”

She looked away from his face and stared out the window looking as guilty as the time he’d caught her with a bottle of whiskey at 17. “There may or may not be a pool.”

He sighed, “Who won?”

“You’re not actually together,” Octavia reminded him as if he’d somehow forgotten in the last minute and a half but again he just stared. “Lincoln.”

Bellamy laughed, “He beat you, huh?”

“I had you guys making out drunk a year ago,” she pouted. “You really let me down, bro.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, if Lincoln wins I still win. We share a bank account.”

“There’s that at least,” he leaned across the console and kissed her cheek. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Yep. I expect daily updates,” she called to him as he got out of the car but instead of making any promises he shut the car door and headed for his car. He got home and changed clothes before queuing up a documentary on Netflix and working on the paper he was supposed to have been doing last night when he’d been getting drunk instead.

A few hours later he was sliding into the seat across from Raven in one of the school’s café’s and without even saying hi Raven looked him at immediately rolled her eyes.

“You know, if you wanted to date her you could have just asked her out instead of fake proposing while drunk.”

Bellamy threw one of his chips at Raven, hitting her in the nose. “It was a joke.”

“Ever hear the phrase behind every joke there’s a kernel of truth?”

“I’d like to know what the kernel of truth is behind Who’s On First.”

“I dated a philosophy major,” she reminded him like it was a warning. “Do you really want me to get into that?”

“No,” Bellamy conceded with a bite of his sandwich. “Either way this is where I’m at now, and I need you not to be an ass about it,” he added with a pointed look.

She nodded, her eyes flicking over his shoulder and he could have sworn they brightened at whatever she saw. Curious, he looked over his shoulder and saw Wick coming towards them, his grin bright and open as he approached them.

“You’re so into him.”

“Shut up, dickface.”

Bellamy grinned, her immediate defensiveness only confirmed his suspicions she was into the guy and had no idea what to do about it.

“Hey Reyes,” Wick greeted, sliding into the seat beside Raven like it was normal and Bellamy wondered how often they had lunch together it was so natural for him to settle himself next to her.

“Hi.”

Bellamy choked back a laugh at her greeting and underneath the table Raven kicked him.

Wick acted like he didn’t notice anything, picking up his soda and twisting off the top to take a small sip.

“Wick, this is Bellamy. Bellamy, this is Wick.”

“You know I have a first name, right?” He asked even as he held out a hand to shake, “Nice to meet you. Oh, hey are you the Bellamy who just got engaged?”

Raven snickered and Wick handed her his soda as if to keep her occupied with not being a pain in the ass.

Bellamy liked him immediately.

“Yeah. To my best friend.”

Raven kicked him again and Bellamy sighed dramatically. “To _one_ of my best friends.”

“Thank God, if you were marrying Raven my spending lunch with her every weekday for the past month would have been completely pointless.”

“It has not been every day,” Raven argued.

“You’re right. There was that one Monday you had to help Bellamy because his car needed a jump.” Wick slid his gaze to Bellamy, “Thanks for that by the way.”

“Sorry, I’ll try to plan my car troubles on the weekend when you’re not having adorable lunch dates in the cafeteria.”

“Appreciate it.” He leaned back and draped his arm along the bench seat behind Raven. “So are you going to marry me someday, Raven?”

She blushed.

Holy fuck, he was so calling Clarke the first chance he had.

Raven Reyes _blushed_.

“Fuck off Wick.”

“I think that means she’s thinking about it,” Wick divulged to Bellamy as if he was revealing a well-kept secret. “You got to help a guy out and convince her to go out with me.”

“You haven’t actually asked me out yet,” she pointed out and Bellamy knew Raven well enough she sounded vaguely irritated about it.

“Cause you’re going to say no,” he countered, his hand tugging on the end of her ponytail. “I’m just waiting till you’re so seduced by my charms you can’t help but ask me out. That goes for the marriage proposal too.”

“Oh my God,” but she kind of leaned into his body as she said it so Bellamy bit back a smile.

She was so into him.

“But enough about you, stop controlling the conversation, god. Raven said you guys just got engaged so I imagine you don’t have a date or anything yet.”

“At this point I think we’re still processing the proposal,” Bellamy admitted, which was conveniently the truth.

Wick nodded as if that made sense and Bellamy noticed the other man’s fingers were still playing with the end of Raven’s hair. “Might as well enjoy the engagement and all the free stuff. Seriously, take my word on this, my cousin got engaged and he and his fiancé just go around mentioning they’re recently engaged and they get like free drinks and deserts and stuff.”

“That’s why you want me to marry you.”

“Mostly,” he teased with a wink. “I’ve actually got to eat and run, my study group changed their times so I have to go meet them at the library and I’m already late. I just didn’t want to leave you stranded.”

Raven narrowed her eyes, “Changed for good or just for this week?”

“Not sure,” he admitted. “But I’ll let you know? We’ll figure something out.”

“Okay.”

Wick dropped his hand and squeezed her shoulder, picking up his food and standing up. “It was nice to meet you Bellamy, and congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll see you later Reyes.”

“Bye Wick.” Raven waited until he was ten steps away before glaring at Bellamy. “I don’t want to hear a fucking word.”

He didn’t even try to hide his shit eating grin, “Whatever you say.”

“You’re fake engaged to the girl you’ve been in love with for like, _ever_ , so you don’t get to say crap about my love life.”

“Duly noted.”

She sat in silence for all of ten seconds before sighing.

“He always buys a soda and leaves it.”

Bellamy glanced down at the soda bottle sitting next to her elbow on the table. “Okay?”

“He opens it, takes a drink, hands it to me and always ‘forgets’ to take it with him.”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me.”

“I don’t carry cash around, so I can never get a bottle and I told him once I hate getting the fountain drinks because they don’t taste the same so he buys a soda, pretends it’s for him and gives it to me.”

Bellamy smiled, “He buys you the soda you like, is waiting for you to ask him out because he doesn’t want to pressure you and he makes it a joke because he doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. He might be too good to be true Raven.”

“I don’t know what to do with him.”

“Give him a chance," Bellamy suggested. "You both deserve that.”

“He scares me.”

With a heavy sigh Bellamy leaned back in his chair, “Yeah. Yeah, I get that.”

“What are you going to do, Bellamy? Seriously?”

He sighed, “Pretty sure I’m going to get my heart broken.”

“Well, I’m not having sex with you when you do.”

Bellamy laughed and threw another chip at Raven. “Good to know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [share on tumblr if you liked it!](http://awriterincowboyboots.tumblr.com/post/141059149509/we-were-drunk-and-got-engaged-chp-2)


	3. ...And We Have to go to Dinner at My Mom's House (yes, you have to go)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Under pain of death Clarke will not admit to being nervous about re-introducing her fake finace to her mother

She was absolutely not nervous. It would be a fucking joke if she was nervous.

“You’re nervous.”

“Please, be anywhere else.”

Raven leaned against the doorway of Clarke’s bathroom with a wide grin. “There is literally nowhere else in the world I want to be.”

Clarke put down her mascara and studied herself in the mirror and reminded herself for what might be the hundredth time this was nothing new and nothing different. She’d gone out with Bellamy in the past, though normally it was in a group and he didn’t drive to her apartment to pick her up.

And normally she didn’t change her clothes three times or worry about perfume or what he’d think—okay, well the last one might have crossed her mind a time or two but whatever, that wasn’t the point.

“We’re not doing this for your entertainment,” Clarke informed her friend as she made the decision she was going to Stop Worrying and go to the living room to wait for Bellamy to show up which should be any minute.

“And yet here I am. Entertained.”

As she stepped out of the bathroom Clarke heard the front door open and a familiar voice call out, “I’m here.”

Walking into the living room she felt her heart skitter to a stop when she saw Bellamy in a pair dark wash jeans and a button up shirt. He rarely dressed anything but casual. Mostly he walked around in a pair of worn jeans, his converse, and a plain t-shirt so seeing him like this was extremely disconcerting to her hormones.

“You don’t look like crap,” she told him because she was a mature adult in total control of her emotions.

“Be still my heart,” he quipped back, his eyes glancing over her and she knew, objectively, she looked good in the dark magenta dress which left her arms bare and flared at the hips. She also knew Bellamy appreciated a beautiful woman so she absolutely was not going to read anything more than casual appreciation in the look of his eyes.

“You look great.”

“A compliment from Bellamy Blake, my life is complete.”

He grinned at her and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Shove it.”

Because Bellamy was too tempting when he was loose and happy and grinning-a change from the grumpy, irritated Bellay she was so used to- she turned away and picked up a small clutch from the couch and began looking for keys.

Bellamy spotted them on the floor by the couch and swooped down to pick them up.

“Ready to go?”

She smiled as she took them and dropped them in to the miniscule space of her bag. “Let’s do this.”

“Be safe kids,” Raven called from the hallway, and Clarke winced because she’d forgotten Raven was still there. “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Your friend is a pain the ass.”

“She was your friend first,” Bellamy pointed out as they walked towards his car and it felt so much like a date Clarke wanted to insult him just to get them back on familiar ground.

“Have you talked to Monty?” he asked before she could come up with a sufficient insult to his character and Clarke smiled because one: it was Monty, and two: Monty was a mutual friend which helped negate the intimacy of the moment.

“He texted me earlier to say he was handcuffing Jasper to a radiator to keep him from coming over and demanding information on the wedding.”

Bellamy stopped at the passenger door to his secondhand car and turned to face her. “Do you think we should tell them?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted and shifted a little closer to him so his head blocked out the sun setting behind him. “I’ve been thinking about it and I would totally trust Monty but-“

“Not Jasper,” he finished for her.

“He wouldn’t be able to keep it to himself,” Clarke agreed and she would swear on her stack of Grey’s Anatomy DVDs that when she licked her lips he looked at her mouth and holy shit she needed to put space between them before she did something stupid. “And I wouldn’t want to make Monty have to lie to Jasper, they’re best friends.”

“That means we’re going to have to keep up the charade in front of them too.”

Charades like holding hands and touching and probably kissing and Clarke would not admit it under any kind of torture but she immediately started wondering when was the soonest she could get the gang together. “Yeah.”

Bellamy shifted and suddenly the air around them was charged as he cornered her against the passenger door. Or, Clarke reasoned, maybe it was the result of the shot she’d snuck when Raven wasn’t looking in an attempt to calm her nerves.

“Should probably get used to it, yeah?”

She was a genius, she’d had an intense and overwhelming education courtesy of her mother but with Bellamy’s clothes brushing against her and his hands now resting low on her hips the only response she could come up with was, “Uh-huh.”

Clarke pictured the image they made in her head, saw it painted with oils, the cars and the parking lot covered in shadows while she and Bellamy were drenched in dying sunlight, two figures hesitantly close and on the verge of something.

Her eyes slid shut as he leaned forward the few inches to press his lips softly against hers.

She attempted to keep her hands to herself, it was bad enough she would now forever know what it was like to be kissed by Bellamy Blake, the last thing she needed to know was how his shoulders felt beneath her palms.

But he shifted against her and shit, what the hell.

Clarke raised her hands to rest on his shoulders, pulling him closer, and there was a change in the muscles beneath her palms as they tensed, and in almost the same instant his hands tightened on her hips.

They were pressed against each other now, the car behind her holding her up as the simple kiss delved into deeper water than either of them could have been prepared for and Clarke would have been happy to hold her breath forever.

“We should probably go,” Bellamy breathed against her lips when he pulled back just a few centimeters, giving Clarke the first chance to feel how erratic her heart was beating against her ribs.

“Right,” she agreed but his hands were still holding her to him and she’d wrinkled the fabric of his shirt in the curve of her fingers. “We don’t want to be late to dinner with a congresswoman.”

He nodded but his gaze in the deepening shadows, the sun had slipped behind a building while she’d learned how Bellamy tasted, dipped down to her lips again and she wondered if either of them were brave enough to go in for another kiss.

But he didn’t, and she didn’t, and eventually his fingers eased away from her and he took a step back.

Her hands fell to her sides.

“Ready then?” she asked and hoped the tremble in her voice wasn’t noticeable.

“Ready.”

They got in the car and there was a collision of awkwardness as they shut the doors.

Bellamy pulled out of the parking lot, headed away from the city lights and towards the estate homes with their expansive lawns and long driveways and unable to handle the shouting silence any longer, Clarke reached out to turn on the radio.

Almost immediately Bellamy’s fingers started tapping out the beat on the steering wheel and Clarke couldn’t help but smile.

“What?” he asked.

“I’m just remembering the road trip to the beach a few years ago,” she told him. “When Octavia threatened to cut off your fingers if you didn’t stop.”

He glanced down at the steering wheel as if he hadn’t realized what he’d been doing, but he grinned at her from across the console, the shared memory enough to ease the tension in the car from the kiss which had gotten just a little bit out of hand. “Like she doesn’t have any annoying traits.”

“Oh, please, list them for me and I’ll make sure to pass them on to her.”

“No need, she knows what they are.”

Clarke shook her head, as endeared by Bellamy and Octavia’s relationship as she was jealous of it. They kept of a stream of conversation so it wasn’t until Bellamy pulled into her mother’s driveway Clarke remembered the nerves which had plagued her as she’d gotten ready for dinner.

Bellamy glanced across the console as he parked and there was a smile in his voice when he asked her, “Are you nervous?”

“Shut up.”

He laughed as he unbuckled his belt and shifted in his seat to face her, “It’ll be fine.”

Clarke looked up at the imposing house, not the one she’d grown up in, but the one her mother had bought a year after her husband’s death. It was never going to feel like home to Clarke.

“So you say now. Just you wait.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve gone up against up the congresswoman a time or two in the past.”

“I know. But this is different.”

“Because we’re together? Because we’re supposed to be together, I mean.”

“She was hard on you before and you were just my friend, do you realize what she’s going to be like now that we’re engaged? That we’re supposed to be engaged.”

He tilted his head in the way he did when he thought someone was being an idiot. “She’s going to move on to enhanced interrogations?”

“You know what, we’ll just call this off. I appreciate you going along with it-“

“For fuck’s sake, Clarke. We both got ourselves into this mess, and you finally stood up to your mom and told her you were going to do what made you happy and I’m not going to be part of the reason she guilts you into going back to med school.”

“You don’t have a lot of faith in me.”

Purposefully he ignored the bait she was throwing in his lap. “I have faith in the fact you love your mom and you want her to be proud of you. I have faith in the fact sometimes you’d do anything for her to be happy with you again and would that include going back to med school to make up for the fact you, in your opinion or hers, embarrassed her with a drunk engagement? Absolutely.”

Bellamy reached across the console to wrap her hand in his and she took comfort in the touch. “It’s not a bad thing Clarke, wanting your mom to be proud of you, but you can’t live your life around it.”

“I’m currently pretending to be engaged to one of my closest friends,” she pointed out.

“That’s not going to change the direction of your life, Clarke. Not like going back to med school would.”

She was quiet for a nearly a full minute before she squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”

“That’s what fake fiancés are for. Now let’s get going, if we survive this dinner how about vanilla shakes and French fries afterwards?”

“You really do love me, don’t you honey?”

He grinned and got out of the car and she waited for him to walk around the hood to open her door. “And if you start getting nervous again we can always sneak into a coat closet and make out if you think it’ll help.”

The tease had its desired effect and Clarke laughed as some of the tension eased from her shoulders. “Thanks for the offer, but I think I’m good.”

“It stands if you change your mind.”

She nodded, ignored the still vivid memory of Bellamy pressed against her, and walked towards the front door and rang the doorbell which for some reason made Bellamy give her an odd look.

“What?”

“You ring the doorbell to your own house?”

“It’s not my house,” she reminded him.

“It’s your parents’ house, same thing.”

“It’s really not,” she argued.

“Well it should be,” he pushed. “I mean Octavia and Lincoln live in our old place and I still walk in like it’s home.”

“Not everyone is the Blakes,” she reminded him dryly.

“More’s the pity.”

Clarke turned to argue with him but the door opened and her mother stood in the threshold looking beautiful and classic and for Clarke there was a sense of missing something which was just out of arm’s reach.

“Mom, hi.”

She smiled serenely, “Clarke, Bellamy. Please, come in.”

“Thank you for inviting us Congresswoman.”

Abby raised an eyebrow, “Since we’re apparently going to be family I think Abby will be fine.”

“Mom,” Clarke warned because she knew what the overly polite tone meant.

“I’ll be good, I promise.” Abby stepped aside to let Clarke and Bellamy through and because Bellamy seemed nervous Clarke slipped her hand into his and squeezed once. “Marcus is in the living room having a drink before dinner. Care to join us?”

“I’m driving,” Bellamy answered as Clarke led him down the hallway. “But thank you.”

“But I’m not so I will take a very big glass of wine.”

Abby smiled and veered off towards the kitchen while Clarke and Bellamy walked into the living room which was the least formal room in the house with family pictures on the wall and the tv above the fireplace.

The couches were soft leather and the wood floor polished to a gleam.

Clarke’s stepfather was sitting in an armchair with a glass of something golden at his elbow. When he saw the young couple walking in he smiled and as he stood.

“Well, if it isn’t the newest member of the Griffin family. I’ll be happy when it’s no longer me.”

Bellamy smiled and Clarke felt him relax marginally beside her. Marcus Kane had been one of Bellamy’s professors at the college before Kane had been promoted to dean and if there was anyone who could make Bellamy feel comfortable in an awkward situation it was a teacher.

The men shook hands and Clarke accepted the hug from her stepfather who had always been warm, friendly, and fully aware he would never be her father.

Something which she occasionally felt guilty about.

“How are classes going?” Marcus asked as he settled back into his chair. Clarke settled on one end of the couch, and Bellamy sat close enough their legs touched. That seemed something a fiancé would do, right? Same with the way he draped his arm along the back of the couch so she was all but tucked into his side.

“I’m going to beat up this pretentious douchebag in my art history class,” Clarke answered cheerfully and out of the corner of her eye she saw Bellamy hold back a laugh. He’d heard about Clarke’s Arch Nemesis on an almost daily basis.

“I don’t think violence is the answer, Clarke,” Marcus replied carefully.

“Depends on the question,” Clarke quipped back with a grin. “But don’t worry, Bellamy has convinced me the assault charge wouldn’t be worth it.”

At the time he’d added, _‘take it from someone who has learned from experience’_ but she didn’t think he’d want his juvenile record brought up at Sunday dinner.

“You graduate in the spring, is that right Bellamy?”

“That’s right.” He paused when Abby came back into the room, handed Clarke her wine and settled with her own glass in one of the other chairs. “I’m hoping to get a job in the non-profit sector after I graduate.”

“Non-profit?” Abby asked and Clarke was trying to decide if her mother sounded interested or condescending.

“There’s good to be done,” Bellamy shrugged as if it was a simple conclusion to come to and she had such a wave of affection for him she followed impulse and kissed his cheek. He glanced down at, looking vaguely stunned, before turning back to congresswoman. “Growing up there were a lot of programs and people who helped us out when we needed food, Christmas presents, money for rent. I’d like to do what I can to pay it forward.”

 

“And Clarke talked to you about leaving medical school?”

Clarke slid her eyes to Bellamy but he wasn’t looking at her so she couldn’t warn him to not, under any circumstances, tell the truth.

“Yes, Mrs. Griffin, she did.”

She stared at his head, hoping to somehow penetrate his thick skull with the warning she would kill him if he dared-He moved his arm from behind her and reached down to take her hand, linking his fingers with hers, and she heard the implicit ‘trust me’ in the gesture.

“We were up late one night talking and I asked her why she was killing herself with pre-med when it didn’t seem to make her happy.”

“So it’s your fault.”

He didn’t flinch at the accusation and seemed as relaxed as if he was discussing babysitting schedules with Octavia. “No. I think she just needed someone to remind her it’s okay to do what makes her happy, to care enough about her happiness to let her make her own decisions.”

Clarke thought back to that very drunken night, not so different from the one where they’d gotten ‘engaged.’ Octavia and Lincoln had gone up to her room, Raven had passed out in the chair but Bellamy and Clarke had been too wired to sleep so they’d sat on the couch asking each other questions they’d never have bothered to ask sober.

_“What do you even do this shit for?”_

_“Drinking?”_

_Bellamy had rolled his eyes, gesturing with his glass to the pile of books in the corner. “Med school.”_

_“Why do I do med school?” the question had confused her because she suddenly couldn’t remember the answer. Surely someone had asked her that before?_

_“It fucking makes you miserable, so why the hell do it?”_

_“My mom.”_

_“Not a good enough reason, princess.” He shook his head soberly as if he was disappointed. “It’s like…” he looked as if he lost his train thought until he shook his head and met her eyes and she’d suddenly wondered if he was more sober than she’d thought. “I’ve seen you draw.”_

_“Yeah, and?”_

_“I’ve seen you draw and you look so fucking at peace and happy. Shit, do you know how rare it is to see you happy? You’re always studying and memorizing and worrying about this fucking test or that shitty paper but you’re never happy.”_

_“It’s school. You’re not supposed to be happy.”_

_Bellamy had grinned, “Whoever sold you that lie pulled off the biggest con. I fucking love school, princess. It's hard, and it pisses me off sometimes, but it makes me happy. And I know if it makes me happy studying, it was going to be happy—I'm going to be happy doing it. For the rest of my life. If you’re not happy studying to be a doctor, what the hell makes you think you’ll be happy being a doctor?”_

That had been the epiphany.

The next morning she’d gone to her advisor and made the decision to find a new direction because she was not meant to be a doctor.

Bellamy had been the one sitting next to her when she’d called her mom.

He’d held her hand then too.

“I would have come to the same decision with or without Bellamy,” Clarke finally spoke up. “But it would have come years down the line after I’d wasted a lot of years and a lot of money chasing what I wasn’t meant to do.”

“You had such promise-“ Abby began, but Bellamy quickly cut her off.

“Have you seen her art?” Bellamy challenged.

“I’ve seen her drawings.”

Bellamy shook his head, “Her drawings are pretty but have you seen her art? The oil paintings, the charcoals. She did one of a place in Italy, I convinced her to give it to me because even though I’ve never been there I could swear I can smell the flowers whenever I look at it.”

“You never told me why you wanted that painting,” Clarke murmured and he turned his head to meet her eyes, his look almost sheepish. “You just kept pestering me about giving it to you.”

He shrugged but his thumb was making idle circles on the back of her hand, “It was before we were us.”

She knew he didn’t mean before the fake engagement. He’d wanted the painting before the drunken epiphany and her calling him crying and broken after a fight with her mom. It had been back when they’d still been swiping at each other, and he’d all but followed her around for a week, nagging her to give him the painting she’d just finished.

When she’d asked why he wanted it he’d smirked and said he wouldn’t be able to afford to buy it once she got her big break.

At the time, he’d somehow managed to make ‘big break’ sound like an insult.

“So if Clarke is going to be an artist,” and Clarke nearly applauded her mother for not sounding chagrined. “And you’re going into non-profit, I assume you’re planning on living off Clarke’s inheritance.”

“Mom.”

“Abby,” Marcus warned.

“I don’t think it’s inappropriate to wonder how they plan on supporting themselves," Abby argued. "I didn’t even know you were dating, much less planning on getting married. What kind of ring was that, I couldn’t tell in the picture?”

“It’s a ring from a grocery store gumball machine,” Clarke answered with a tone which dared her mother to say something about it.

“It was two am,” Bellamy explained with a shrug and a smile. “I didn’t have a lot of other options.”

“Well, I’m sure once you get a real ring-”

“No,” Clarke interrupted as she pulled back her hand as if there was a chance someone might pull the ring off her finger.

Bellamy turned to her with a grin, “You don’t want me to get you an actual ring?”

“This is an actual ring and why would I want a ring you didn’t actually propose with? Besides,” she smiled as she looked at the silly bubblegum machine ring. “This has sentimental value.”

“You’re such a weirdo,” he grinned. Clarke was prepared to be offended before he leaned forward to give her a quick kiss so it sounded more like an endearment than an accusation.

“Yeah, well you’re the one who chose to love me.”

His smile softened, so did his eyes and her heart skipped and stuttered against her ribs. “It wasn’t really much of a choice, princess.”

 _Holy shit,_ Clarke thought with mild panic. She was in so much trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [share on tumblr if you liked it!](http://awriterincowboyboots.tumblr.com/post/143623659024/we-were-drunk-and-got-engaged-chp-3)


	4. …And We May Have Gotten A Little Carried Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you're making out with your very hot friend who is pretending to be your fiance it's hard to keep the lines from blurring, hard to keep your heart from wanting it to be real and Bellamy and Clarke's friends aren't exactly helping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god these chapters are getting so long, i apologize

Bellamy walked into his sister’s house early enough he’d rather be sleeping but he knew Lincoln and Octavia had a rare day off in common and had plans to take their daughter to the zoo and the aquarium and were getting an early jump on the day.

“Marco!”

“Polo,” Octavia called from the back of the house where Clara’s room was located.

Walking down the hallway Bellamy couldn’t help noticing the changes to the house since he’d moved out and Lincoln had moved in. There was a different vibe to it now, but it was a good one.

Gone was the cheap furniture and school pictures in dusty frames, in their place was bright and smiling photos and the kind of furniture which was worn from good living. It was like his crappy childhood memories had been painted over with better ones and he couldn’t say he was sorry to see them go.

And it was a lovely kind of irony Clara’s room had once been her mother’s.

“You know,” he started as he walked into Clara’s pretty green room where she was wiggling on the floor as her mother tried to put on her shoes. “I should probably stop walking in your house like I still live here.”

Octavia looked up and he couldn’t help but smile at the roll of her eyes. “Don’t be a dipshit, Bell.”

“Nice language to use in front of your daughter.”

Octavia leaned over Clara so their noses were nearly touching, “Your uncle is a dipshit.”

“Great influence.”

“I try,” she smiled as he settled on the floor next to her. “What’s with you? Why are suddenly wanting to knock on doors?”

He shrugged and with nothing else to do with his hands he picked up a stuffed animal and started playing with Clara, making the bear give her kisses till she giggled. “I had dinner with Clarke’s mom and stepdad last night.”

“That’s right, how did that go?”

“Okay. The congresswoman’s not happy about the engagement, but she was more or less civil.”

“And how does Congresswoman Griffin more or less putting up with you being her future son-in-law have anything to do with the front door?”

“Clarke knocked on her mom’s door. Said it wasn’t her house so she didn’t just walk in and as I was coming back here I noticed, this isn’t really my house either. Not anymore anyway.”

She sighed like he was the greatest disappointment in her life. “It’s always going to be your house, Bell. You’ll always have a place here, you know that.”

“Yeah, but it’s more your and Lincoln’s place now, which is how it’s supposed to be.”

“Well, if we decide we want people to start knocking we’ll lock the front door. How’s that?”

He nodded.

She studied him for a moment and seeming to decide he was fine changed topics. “So besides your small existential crisis, anything else worth noting?”

“I sort of kissed Clarke.”

Octavia smirked and Clara, bored of the adult conversation and the stuffed bear, got up and wandered over to the toy box in the corner. “Sort of?”

“We were talking about how Jasper wouldn’t be able to keep a secret-“

“God, he’s the worst at keeping secrets.”

“Right, so we weren’t going to tell him about how this whole thing is fake which meant we couldn’t tell Monty and ask him lie to Jasper.”

“Can’t tell Miller,” Octavia added with a nod. “Because then he’d have to lie to his boyfriend.”

“Exactly, so we’re going to have to keep up the charade in front of them and we couldn’t exactly kiss for the first time in front of the group so I thought, why not get it out of the way? Kiss now, with no one watching, move on.”

She watched him for a minute and he knew there was no hiding his emotions from his sister, they knew each other too well. “That good, huh?”

Bellamy sighed, “I probably should have known it would be.”

“You are so emotionally stunted,” she informed him dryly. “Clara, don’t put that in your mouth.”

The two-year-old reluctantly took the toy out of her mouth and brought it over to Bellamy who graciously accepted the damp gift. “Thanks, baby.”

“Are you guys ready-“ Lincoln stopped as he came into his daughter’s room to see his partner and her brother sitting on the ground while Clara walked to and from her toy box to give her uncle presents.

“Hey, Bellamy.”

“Hey, I’m not crashing your guy’s day off, I just wanted to give O an update on the dinner.”

“And?”

“He kissed her.”

“I definitely won the bet,” Lincoln grinned.

“We’re not actually together,” Bellamy attempted to remind the room but neither Octavia nor Lincoln were listening to him.

“Shut up, no one likes a bragger.”

“And still I found a way to love you,” Lincoln pointed out as he reached down to pick up his curly haired daughter. “Come on, bug, let’s go pack up the car.”

“Zoo!” she yelled as if suddenly remembering what they were doing for the day.

“That’s right,” Lincoln grinned, and then made growling noises as he pretended to devour his daughter, much to her delight. “We should probably head out soon unless Bellamy’s managed to get married since the last time we saw him.”

Octavia laughed while Bellamy grumbled and got up off the floor. “No, I was on my way to the library and just stopped by.”

Reaching out his hand he helped Octavia up and she moved to the door but turned around suddenly. “Oh, I should tell you, Jasper’s planning a surprise engagement party at the bar Friday so if anyone asks, you don’t know anything about it.”

“Thanks for the heads up, I’ll tell Clarke.”

But she still didn’t move to leave.

“O?”

“I dare you to be happy, Bell. I double dog dare you to get the girl,” and with that she turned and walked away.

Yep, definitely knew each other too well. Damn her, she knew he couldn’t say no to dare.

 ##############################

 “Holy shit, you’re totally in to him,” Raven laughed, clutching her sides.

Clarke looked around the library and sent an apologetic smile to a group of people who were trying to study a few tables away.

“Keep it down, will you?”

“He defended you, and now you’re a puddle of hormones and you want to jump him.”

Clarke’s entire brain went blank at the idea of jumping Bellamy Blake with her fingers in his hair and his hands-Holy shit, yeah, she could go for that.

“You should see your face right now,” Raven laughed, but at least this time she attempted to muffle the sound with her hand.

Clarke glared at her friend. “Why, do you recognize it from lusting after a certain engineering student?”

Raven kicked Clarke under the table, “I do not lust after Wick.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Fine. Let’s make a bet. Thirty bucks says you sleep with Bellamy before I sleep with Wick.”

“Deal.”

They shook on it and went back to studying but Clarke couldn’t help but relive the events from the night before. Not just the unexpectedly hot kiss, but Bellamy’s leg pressed against hers on the couch, how he’d had her back when her mother questioned her life decisions.

It had all seemed so bizarrely natural, as if they’d done it a thousand times before, but it wasn’t until he dropped her off Clarke had been reminded this was all hardly routine.

Because despite the fact she knew he wouldn’t kiss her goodnight, she’d really, really wanted him to. When was the last time she’d had a good make-out session in the front seat of a car after a nice night out?

“Too long.”

“Huh?” Raven asked, looking up from her books.

“Sorry, talking to myself.”

Raven nodded, but grinned when she saw something over Clarke’s shoulder. “Your fiance’s on his way over.”

Clarke looked over her shoulder and saw Bellamy sauntering towards them, glasses in place and hair too long and the overwhelming warmth she could feel just looking at him was obviously affection, but it was also something else she didn’t dare examine too closely.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” she greeted back as he slid into the chair next to her, pulling it close enough he could drape his arm across the back of her chair. “What brings you around?”

“You know you don’t have to pretend around me,” Raven pointed out. “I know it’s not real.”

Bellamy shrugged, “It’s easier to keep it going all the time then to remember when to be on and when to be off.”

“Trust me,” Raven assured him with all pretense of seriousness. “You’re always a little off.”

“Cute.”

Clarke decided to stop them now before they started throwing things at each other. “Okay, kids. This is a college library, let’s act like adults.”

“Speaking of adulthood, Jasper’s throwing us a surprise engagement party.”

“Who told you?” Raven asked like she was going to club whomever had spilled the beans.

“Octavia, because she’s my sister and she loves me.”

“I was really looking forward to look on your faces,” Raven grumbled.

“Take it up with O,” Bellamy suggested before looking to Clarke. “I figured I’d pick you up about nine, and then we’d head over and act surprised.”

“That sounds good.” She turned to Raven and leaned forward, “Can we get a temperature on how out of hand Jasper is going to get with this?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” she promised. “But assume very.”

“Wonderful.”

Bellamy tugged on her hair, “It’ll be fun.”

“Sure it will.”

He sighed, “If this relationship is going to work I can’t always be the optimistic one, it’s exhausting.”

“Fine,” she grumbled, turning the page of her art history book. “I’ll be the optimistic one tomorrow.”

“Good, because I have a test tomorrow and am planning on the world ending.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “I’m out, see you later, Raven. Bye, babe.”

“Bye,” Clarke replied automatically, her hand coming up to touch cheek. She turned her head to watch him leave, mystified as to what had just happened.

“That was weird, right?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never had a fake fiancé before, but I do know one thing.”

She was terrified to ask, “What?”

“I’m so going to win this bet.”

“Fuck you, Raven.”

  ##############################

 Raven was thoroughly enjoying herself.

Immediately after arriving at the bar she’d cozied up to Octavia and compared notes, they determined both Bellamy and Clarke were fucking morons, and then prepared to enjoy the rest of what was bound to be a highly entertaining night.

The newly engaged couple had acted appropriately surprised the group had gathered to celebrate their engagement and then settled in for the interrogation. Monty had demanded to hear the proposal story, Jasper asked repeatedly why they’d all been left in the dark.

_“We didn’t want to say anything until we knew it was going to be something.”_

Miller had distracted everyone from shots, which is probably why he was going to be the fake best man at the fake wedding instead of her. She has asked about their first kiss and Bellamy had mouthed ‘asshole’ the first chance he had.

She was heading back to the table, her knee could only take so much dancing and she had to pace herself, when she saw the blonde hair almost a head above everyone else and she stormed over to Bellamy who sitting at the table by himself.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Bellamy looked up, he’d so been checking out his fiancée as she danced with Octavia. “A lot, is there anything specific you’re referring to?”

“Wick just got here.”

Following her gaze Bellamy looked at entrance and after seeing Wick, raised a hand so the other man would know where they were.

“I told Monty to invite him.”

“Why?” she demanded because, _shit_ , she had dressed for what was supposed to be a night out with her friends, not for the guy she wanted make out with in supply closets.

“Because you like him,” he explained as if it was obvious. “Add alcohol and who knows what kind of fun you can have.”

“I’m not getting drunk and having sex with Wick,” and just to make sure she cutting herself off starting now.

“Fine,” he shrugged as if it didn’t matter to him. “Make out with him, kick his ass at pool, just have fun.”

“I hate you,” she muttered under her breath as Wick made his way through the crowd.

He kissed her cheek with a loud smack. She elbowed him in response. “Love you too, Rey.”

Wick finally reached their table and immediately slid on to the stool next to where Raven was standing. “Hey guys.”

“Hey,” Bellamy greeted. “As rude as it’s going to seem I need to go get Jasper off my fiancé, but I’m glad you could make it.”

Wick looked over and even though he probably didn’t know who he was talking about he nodded. “Good luck, and thanks for the invite man.”

“Yeah, anytime.”

Bellamy walked away and Raven reminded herself there was no reason to be nervous. This was _Wick_. She knew Wick, she liked Wick, she’d never had a problem talking to him before.

“I was not aware you had been invited.”

“You looked a little surprised when you saw me,” he admitted. “I can head out if you want.”

“No,” she assured him quickly and ruthlessly pushed down the butterflies she could feel floating in her stomach. “I’m glad you came, Monty’s here too so it’s not like I’m the only person you know here.”

“Yeah, no offense to my man Monty, but I didn’t come here to see him.”

She smiled and gave in to the butterflies, sliding on to the empty stool she rested her arm next to his on the table and without a moment’s hesitation he took her hand in his, wrapping his fingers around hers.

“Okay, give me a run down, who is the fiancé and who is Jasper and who do I need to avoid?”

“Alright, you met Bellamy.” Raven pointed to the throng of people dancing, “The blonde is his fiancé Clarke.”

“You guys have known each other for a while, right?”

“Clarke and I briefly dated the same guy without knowing about each other, we were seniors at different high schools and when we ended up on the same floor at college we decided screw it, and became friends.”

“Good call.”

She nodded, “We thought so. He actually goes to our college but we give him a wide berth. Bellamy was a senior when we started, he’s doing his grad stuff now like you, and graduates in the spring. Jasper, the lanky one dancing with the brunette, is a junior with me and Clarke. You know Monty’s a senior, and he’s probably somewhere making out with his boyfriend, Miller-”

“So the last name thing isn’t just me? I feel like I’m not special anymore.”

Raven laughed, “Don’t worry, you’re still special. I was just introduced to him as Miller and it feels weird to call him Nathan. Miller didn’t go to college with us, but he’s Bellamy’s best friend so they were kind of a package deal.”

“And the brunette?”

“Octavia, Bellamy’s little sister, who met the love of her life right out of high school when she was 18, his name is Lincoln. He’s older, which drove Bellamy crazy when he first found out, but it was soul mates, you know? They got pregnant accidentally-on-purpose a year after they met so they’ve got a two-year-old named Clara whom everyone spoils. I think that’s everyone.”

“They’re your family.”

She stared at him because his voice sounded like he’d just realized something vitally important. He tapped the corner of her mouth with his finger, “That’s a hell of a happy smile, Raven.”

“Buy me a drink and I’ll be even happier.”

He grinned back at her, “As you wish.”

 ##############################

 Meanwhile, Bellamy had moved through the crowd on the small dance floor and tapped Jasper on the shoulder, “I’m cutting in man.”

Jasper groaned but Octavia was happy to lead her friend around the dance floor.

“Hi,” Clarke smiled, a little loopy and loose from the alcohol. Technically only he, Miller, and Monty were old enough to drink. Jasper, Octavia and Clare were still twenty but if there was anything Jasper could do well, it was make fake ids.

He looped his arms around her waist because he was her fake fiancé and it would be weird if he didn’t. Also, she was wearing a crop top which left her mid-drift bare and the temptation to not touch his skin to hers was more than he could handle. “Are you going to tell me why you wanted me to get Monty to invite Wick here?”

“Partly, I wanted to meet him.”

“And the other part?”

She pressed her lips together and shook her head, indicating she was going to let him in on the secret.

“Will you tell me eventually?”

“Probably,” she admitted and linked her fingers together behind his neck which had the side effect of pressing her body against his and his brain sputtered for a minute at the contact.

“You’re dancing with me,” she commented as she tilted her head just a little.

Dancing was a loose term for what they were doing. It was more of a standing-close-sway-a-little variety but he wasn’t about to correct her. “I’m aware.”

“I could never get you to dance before.”

“We weren’t fake engaged before,” he reminded her. He thought about giving his nerves a break and asking her if she wanted another drink, if she wanted to go out to the patio to get some fresh air. He also thought about never moving from exactly where he was, with Clarke wrapped around him, for the rest of his life.

But thankfully the decision was taken out of his hands when they heard someone, and then multiple someones, clinking glasses.

Looking over he saw Octavia, Jasper, and the others had all gathered around the table and were using spoons _(where the hell had they gotten spoons in a bar?)_ to tap their glasses.

“What are they doing?”

“They want us to kiss,” Clarke informed him wryly. “It’s a thing they do at weddings to get the bride and groom to kiss during the reception.”

“They want us to kiss.”

Somewhere in the universe Aphrodite was laughing at him.

“It’s why we practiced, right?” she asked, and considering the mattered settled she leaned forward and pulled him down just a little so she could press her lips against his.

This time he was totally going to keep his emotions and hormones in check-he’d let them get the better of him the last time he’d kissed her-but it appeared Clarke had other ideas.

She opened for him, pulled him in and dragged him under and he was pretty much helplessly drowning with her fingers in his hair and his hands on her hips and they stayed that way, completely lost in each other, until the sounds of whoops and hollers pierced his lust hazed brain.

There wasn’t enough lighting on the edge of the dance floor for Bellamy to be certain, but he thought he saw a look of uncertainty on Clarke’s face and to assure her they were fine he pressed a kissed to her lips before throwing his arm over her shoulder and leading her back towards the table.

“You guys are idiots.”

“I have more questions,” Jasper announced, ignoring Bellamy’s accusation. “When did this start?”

“Nine months ago,” they both answered and the grin they sent each other at the synchronization was real.

“When did you first realize you were attracted to each other?”

Bellamy looked at Raven and resisted the urge to wipe the very smug grin off her face.

“When I first met him,” Clarke announced and grabbed the closest glass and took a drink out of it.

At hearing Clarke’s answer Bellamy hoped someone would ask a follow up question because, really? They’d known each other for almost three years and he didn’t know she’d been attracted to him from the start.

Octavia groaned, “Gross.”

“He had the glasses and the floppy hair and he looked ready to punch someone,” Clarke defended with a shrug. “It was hot.”

It took a second for him to remember what she was talking about, but when it clicked he laughed. “I was ready to punch _you_.”

She grinned, “Undeservedly.”

“You wanted me to change your grade because-“

“No!” Monty interrupted. “I have heard this exact argument before and it never ends well. Someone clink a glass or something.”

Jasper did but Bellamy and Clarke ignored him.

“Bell, your turn. When did you realize you had the hots for Clarke?”

It was Octavia this time and he was certain there was a conspiracy against him.

Bellamy glanced down at Clarke, “Not to say you weren’t hot when we met, but I was with Gena when he first met.”

“To my disappointment,” she sighed.

“Wasn’t he going to be your rebound sex guy?” Monty asked as if suddenly remembering.

“Yeah, but then I found out he was dating someone so we became friends instead. It’s how I ended up getting with Lexa.”

Rebound sex guy? Bellamy repeated in his head, turning to look at Raven who gave him a small nod of confirmation.

How had he not known that?

“Bellamy?”

Shaking his head at Jasper’s voice Bellamy refocused. “Right. I remember shortly after Gena and I broke up I was going to the library and I saw Clarke in one of those study rooms with all this shit around her, studying herself stupid, but there was this look of, I don’t know, fierce concentration on her that just made me stop in my tracks.”

Clarke stared up at him, blinking those big blue eyes, but Bellamy didn’t have time to read what was hiding in them.

“Clarke was dating Lexa than,” Octavia murmured as if just putting together the time line.

“Two ships,” Miller commented, and Bellamy knew his friend understood what it was like to want someone but the timing to never be quite right. Miller had been lucky though, he’d eventually gotten the universe on his side and was now living with the man Miller never quite believed he’d get to be with.

“Yeah, wasn’t meant at the time I guess, but I remember seeing her and wondering what it would be like to have that kind of single-mindedness focused on me.”

“I bet you know what’s like now, right?” Jasper asked with a shit eating grin as he raised his hand for a high five.

Bellamy gave him a deadpan look. “I’m going to get another round, who wants in?”

“I do,” Clarke quickly agreed as a round of agreements circled the table.

“I’ll come with,” Raven insisted, and slid off the stool, touching Wick’s arm as she passed him.

She shifted closer to him as they walked to the bar. “What are you up to?”

“Why is it whenever you start a conversation with me it sounds like you’re accusing me of something?”

“Because you’re usually up to something,” she parried. “Now, explain to me exactly what you’re up to with Clarke?”

“I’m pretending to be her fiancé?”

“Yeah, which I would normally buy, except you seem overly invested in the role. Exhibit A: earlier this week at the library. The charming boyfriend routine was very well done but unnecessary as I know the truth and I doubt anyone in the library could have cared how much or how little space was between you and Clarke.”

“I-“

“I’m not done. Exhibit B: Monty texted me and said you guys were over at his and Miller’s place and when Clarke walked by you, you pulled her into your lap.”

“Why is Monty texting you a play by play?” he asked before he turned to give the large order to the bartender who nodded and walked away to start filling the drinks.

“He was texting everyone because we’re all interested in how you guys are around each other now that we know you’re doing it.”

“We’re not-“

“They don’t know that and it’s beside the point. Exhibit C: tonight. I don’t think you’ve ever been this good of a boyfriend when you were an actual boyfriend. Also, that was a hell of a kiss on the dance floor.”

“Yeah. I don’t really know what that was,” he admitted but Raven continued to stare at him until he sighed and figured he might as well fess up.

“I had an idea.”

“Oh, boy.”

“Inspired by something Octavia said.”

“I’m going to need a drink for this, aren’t I?” she leaned on the bar as if looking for one.

“It just seemed like, maybe Clarke has never seen me in the boyfriend light?” He thought about what Clarke had said about wanting to hook up with him her freshmen year. “Or maybe she did once, but she doesn’t anymore, so I thought if I could show her how good we could be together it might occur to her.”

“So you’re trying to be a good fake fiancé to show her you’d be a good real boyfriend?”

He braced himself for her scorn or laughter. “Yeah.”

Instead, she nodded once. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“It’s not the most absurd way one of us has gotten a significant other. If we hadn’t tricked Monty and Miller into going off together they might be getting around to holding hands.”

“We are all so monumentally screwed up,” but he said it with a smile.

“Wick called you guys my family.”

“Yeah? Well, we are, so at least he’s not an idiot.” He paused as he thought of something, “Does he know about us?”

Raven picked up three of the drinks the bartender set in front of them as Bellamy grabbed the others. “That was a long time ago, Bell.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged as they headed back to the table. “But if you found out one of Wick’s closest friends was someone he’d slept with and he didn’t tell you, how would you feel?”

“Alright, point taken. I’ll tell him. As for the other? I don’t think it’ll take that much convincing. We’re all rooting for you.”

“You mean you and Octavia.”

“No,” she argued, lowering her voice as they approached the table. “We’ve all been rooting for you guys since the beginning, why do you think we made a bet?”

 ##############################

 Clarke woke up and was happy to find moving her head didn’t make her want to throw up and when she reached across the bed for Bellamy she was confused when she didn’t find him next to her.

Sitting up she looked at his side of the bed, or the side of the bed he’d always passed out on when he stayed over, and realized the sheets were still neat and the pillow he usually bunched up was flat.

Grabbing her phone, she walked into the living room to find Bellamy showered and watching something on her Netflix. She had a fuzzy memory of stumbling into her pajamas while Bellamy was in the living room. Had he slept on the couch?

“We’re not married, are we?”

Bellamy looked up from the TV with a laugh, “No.”

“Oh good.”

“Love you, too.”

She gave him a tired but amused smile as she plopped down on the couch, stretching her legs out to rest on his lap. She wasn’t going to overthink why Bellamy hadn’t slept in her bed when he always had before. Maybe he’d stayed up to watch a movie and fallen asleep and it didn’t have anything to do with what had happened the night before.

“I don’t mind the not remembering the engagement part but if given the choice I’d rather remember actually getting married.”

“Fair enough,” he rested his hand on her ankle and Clarke’s entire body stilled, worried if she shifted too much he might move his hand. “You know you have no food in your fridge.”

“Still?”

“You expected someone to fill it for you?”

She sighed and grabbed one of the throw pillows to rest her head on. “Kind of hoping. I hate grocery shopping. I never end up with any actual food, just a bunch of drinks and chips.”

“Breaking news,” he replied dryly because this was something he’d learned about her long ago. “I’ll make you a grocery list but only if you promise to go before next weekend. In the meantime, I ordered pizza.”

Her stomach growled at the idea of food, of greasy pizza piled high with toppings. She moved her foot to kick his hip and she smiled to herself when he immediately put his hand back on her bare leg when she rested it back on his lap. “What time is it?”

“A little after eleven.”

“Oh my god, you should have woken me up.”

“What kind of fiancé would be if I woke you up after staying out till three in the morning?”

“Hmm,” she agreed but only burrowed deeper into the couch’s cushion. “Good point, you’re the best fiancé.”

She could feel his thumb brushing along the bone of her ankle and it was almost hypnotic, lulling her back to sleep until he shifted. Aware she was possibly still a little drunk, she grabbed his arm and pulled him down to lay with her.

Initially he was a rigid line against her back, but after a minute she could feel him release the tension and wrap his arm around her waist, pulling her against him. Even though there was nothing sexual about it Clarke thought it was extraordinarily intimate, the feel of her body relaxed against him, his breath stirring the hair at her temple.

Fuck, she was really gone if she was romanticizing a _nap_.

“Should we talk about last night?”

Clarke tried not to react to the question, but with his body pressed against hers he probably noticed the quick stiffening of her muscles before she intentionally relaxed.

She didn’t have to ask what he meant. Over the course of the evening she and Bellamy had kissed nine times, most of them PG-13 kisses instigated by her friends, but shortly before last call Bellamy and Clarke had found their way out to the patio where only a handful of people were huddled in small groups. She could clearly remember Bellamy putting his hands on her hip and pushing her against the wall.

_“You’re driving me crazy.”_

Clarke could still feel the heat of his breath on her cheek, could still remember the rush of want when he’d pressed his body against her and pressed his mouth to hers.

Their first kiss against his car had been stumbling, unintentional in the way they’d both gotten swept up in the current but with the alcohol in their blood it made it easy to put aside all those hesitations and reach for what they wanted.

His fingers had tripped up her spine, sending shivers along her nerves, before sliding back down and slipping just beneath the tops of her jeans. She’d arched against him, felt the rumble of a growl in his chest as he ravaged her mouth, kissing her like he’d die if he didn’t.

She’d kissed back with equal fervor. He demanded while she teased until her entire body was a single, throbbing pulse.

His name had been the only thing she’d managed to say and it was one of the single most erotic moments of her life.

It was because of that kiss she’d thought maybe he’d chosen to sleep on the couch instead in her bed. Had been worried they’d give into those baser passions? Did he think sleeping together would have given her the wrong idea because, yeah he thought she was hot, but he didn’t want a relationship with her?

Or did he want it all, the sex and the laying on the couch together, and thought she didn’t?

And this was exactly the kind of overthinking she wasn’t going to do.

“It was all part of the act,” she assured him and held her breath, waiting for him to argue, to tell her it hadn’t been part of the act but instead she only felt him nod, his chin brushing against her shoulder.

“Right.”

Without any warning, she felt the tears build up in the back of her eyes. She hadn’t realized how badly she’d been hoping things would be different, that a few kisses and hand holding would change the way he felt about her.

It wasn’t his fault, and she wasn’t about to make him feel guilty for not being in love with her so she up, keeping her back to him the whole time, and in told him she was going to take a shower. She didn’t flee towards the bathroom, but it was pretty close to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [share on tumblr if you liked it!](http://awriterincowboyboots.tumblr.com/post/144037844009/we-were-drunk-and-got-engaged-chp-4)


	5. …And We Were Supposed to Break Up (but ended up making-out instead)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy finds out exactly how Clarke feels about him and has to decide how to take the next step which he's fairly certain will change their lives for good, and for the better but finding out how to tell your best friend she's also the love of your life proves harder in execution than in theory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two months late, but here's the finale  
> last chapters are hard

While the charade continued there was far less kissing and while Clarke very much missed it she knew it was better for her heart if she and Bellamy kept the lines from blurring any more than they already had.

And to be honest, not much had changed in the long run.

It turned out Bellamy being her fiancé wasn’t all that different from Bellamy being one of her best friends.

He still came over and hung out on her couch, they still met up for lunch on campus, only now when they were hanging out with the rest of their delinquent friends, no one paid any mind if she decided to sit on his lap or if he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Sometimes she looked down at her hand and was surprised to see the ring there, and there was this one girl who was flirting with her in the computer lab until she saw the ring and while Clarke had been vaguely disappointed at the missed opportunity the fact it was Bellamy’s ring somehow made up for it.

But that was because of her stupid heart, with whom Clarke was not talking to because they were currently at a standoff. Clarke was determined not to be in love with Bellamy, and her heart was dead set on it.

In the meantime, she perfected answers to questions she got on a regular basis: when’s the wedding, how did he propose, where are you going to live, when are you going to have kids? There were subtle and not so subtle insinuations from friends and relatives she was too young to be considering marriage.

She’d told Bellamy about it when he came home to his crappy apartment. He’d been working late and she had been driving herself crazy at her place trying to draw but not being able to come up with anything so she’d broken into his apartment to wait for him.

“Well, they’re not wrong,” he told her as he put leftovers in the microwave to reheat.

Clarke glared at him as she reached into the fridge for sodas. “You’re not helping.”

“You’re not even 21.”

“Give it a few months,” she snapped and was aware she was on the verge of being more than a little irritable for absolutely no reason. Except for, you know, the being in love with her fake fiancé thing.

“Besides, Octavia’s not 21 either.”

“Octavia’s not married,” he pointed out and the patience in his voice made her want to kick him.

“Right, and living with her boyfriend of how many years and their _child_ doesn’t count for anything.”

“What exactly do you want from me here?” he asked her over the breakfast bar as he separated the food onto two plates. “Because I feel like you’re in the mood to get pissed at me and if you’re going to be mad me I’d prefer to at least earn it.”

Clarke sighed. He was right, she was irritated and taking it out on him which wasn’t fair even if it was vaguely satisfying. “I’m in a mood.”

“No shit.”

“You know what, I’m going to go.”

He reached across the countertop and grabbed her arm, “Hey. I don’t care if you’re in a mood. I just don’t want to be your punching bag. Sit, stay.”

“I’m not a dog, Bellamy.”

“Please.”

She thought about it, but realized if she was going to be in a bad mood she’d rather be in one with Bellamy than sulking at home alone.

“Fine, I’ll stay.”

“Okay,” he grabbed the plates and headed towards the couch and Clarke followed with the drinks. “Let’s watch something on Netflix and zone out.”

He didn’t ask what she wanted to watch which was probably a good idea because honestly she was too grumpy to enjoy anything but after dinner and an episode and a half of Doctor Who she was curled up on the couch with her head resting on a pillow against his leg.

Bellamy’s hand rested on her shoulder, his thumb absently brushing against her skin and while it definitely went against the Line That Shouldn’t Be Crossed it was the first time all day she’d felt remotely at ease.

“The reason for my bad mood might be because of my mom.”

“Yeah?” he asked. “Why?”

“She’s demanding I come to one of her political dinners next week, and she’s requested-read demand-that you come along.”

“And that pissed you off?”

She sat up and twisted a little to face Bellamy who had his gaze focused on her and it was no wonder she loved him, when he could make a person feel like they were the only thing which mattered in the universe with just a look.

“I’m 20.”

“A fact we went over in the kitchen.”

“And engaged.”

“More or less,” he agreed.

She settled back on the pillow, on his leg and his fingers picked up a strand of her and absently played with it. “I guess I just thought she’d eventually start treating me like an adult. I’ve started my own life, made my own decisions, you’d think she’d start to respect that at some point and understand my life doesn’t revolve about what she needs of me.”

“Ever think that’s why she makes the demands she does?”

“What do you mean?”

“Her only child has moved out of the house, lives on her own, and is making changes in her education without discussing it with her. She has a daughter who is dating and, as far as she knows, getting married without once discussing it with her. Of course she’s going to try and use what influence and control she has left. She thinks she’s losing you.”

Fuck, he was right. “I don’t want to understand her point of view,” Clarke grumbled. “I want to stay in my bad mood.”

Bellamy laughed and she could feel the vibration of it in her own body. “In that case, fuck her.”

“Thanks.”

“I know I can be a pain when it comes to your mom,” he admitted after a moment. “Because I do think she has more influence over you than she should, but at the same time I get it. If I saw you slipping away from me I’d probably go to pretty extreme lengths to keep you in my life.”

It wasn’t ‘ _I love you_ ’ but it still made Clarke’s heart squeeze. “You don’t ever have to worry about that, Bell.”

“Back at you, princess.” He murmured and all was quiet between them as the Doctor saved the universe once again. As the next episode started Bellamy picked up the remote to skip through the opening credits. “You want to stay tonight?”

“If you don’t mind me and my bad mood.”

“Nah, I don’t mind at all.”

They’d gone through the same kind of routine as the morning they’d woken up engaged. Brushed teeth, changed clothes, he gave her a shirt to sleep in and a pair of sweats so when she laid down on the sheets she was surrounded with the smell of him.

He slept on his stomach and Clarke slept on her side so she could watch him as he bunched up his pillow beneath him, closed his eyes.

“I can’t sleep with you staring at me.”

Her response was a shaky whisper. “I think my dad would have really liked you.”

“Shit,” he replied and even as he opened his eyes he was reaching for her. “Clarke.”

“Sorry,” she apologized as her arms encircled him, her body resting against his. “I don’t know why I’m like this today.”

“You don’t need a reason,” he murmured against her ear. “But I imagine everything over the past few weeks is a pretty crappy reminder your dad is gone and he’s going to miss big parts of your life.”

“Don’t you feel the same way about your parents?” she asked, lifting her head off his chest to look at him in the almost darkness.

“No. I didn’t know my dad, and sometimes I’d like for my mom to know how good O and I are doing but honestly as long as my sister is still around then I know the most important person in my life will there for all the big moments.” He paused, “You really think he’d have liked me?”

Clarke smiled, “He always had a thing for underdogs.”

Bellamy laughed and pressed a hand against the back of Clarke’s head, pulling her back down to rest against his chest and while she still felt as though she wasn’t quite back to average, his arms wrapped around her somehow made everything better.

Maybe, she thought as she listened to the beat of his heart in her ear, she should rethink the lines she’d drawn and how far she was willing to go keep them from blurring. If she got her heart broken for her trouble, she was beginning to think it might be worth it.

And she didn’t know it, but as she fell asleep in Bellamy’s arms he thought the exact same thing.

 #############################

“They taste the exactly the same,” Bellamy was saying as they stood in front of the cereals on a Sunday afternoon after a morning of lazing around his apartment doing as little as possible until hunger demanded they go get food.

Clarke had been oddly affectionate since they’d woken still wrapped around each other. He wasn’t sure if it was because she still felt vulnerable from the clash with her mother along with missing her father, and when she’d leaned in to kiss him before they’d left the apartment he let himself think maybe his long game of convincing her they’d be good together was working.

Either way Bellamy wasn’t going to point it out for fear she might stop.

“They absolutely do not.”

“I am prepared to fight you about this.”

“Color me shocked,” Clarke rolled her eyes. “I’m getting the name brand cereal and you can’t stop me.”

“These are my groceries,” he reminded her.

“I’ll buy them and sneak them into your cupboards,” she threatened. “So either accept them now or accept them later.”

“This is going to be a thing when we’re married, isn’t it?”

“Brand name versus store brand?” she asked as she dropped a box of frosted mini wheats in the cart because they were his favorite and, according to her and the rest of their friends, he was secretly an old man. “Absolutely. I mean, would you rather name our kid Lucky Charms or Marshmallow Shapes and Grain?”

“We’re naming our kids after cereal?” he asked on a laugh.

“What, you’d rather name them after the classics? Greek gods?”

“Octavia likes her name just fine.”

“And she gave her daughter a nice, simple name.”

“Technically Lincoln named her,” Bellamy corrected remembering with a pang how the doctor had announced Octavia’s daughter was healthy but the mother was bleeding, how it had taken almost three hours for them to hear Octavia would be okay.

In the meantime, Lincoln had held his daughter and named her, picking from one of the handful of names he and Octavia had talked about.

“I’m just saying I’m not naming my kid Odysseus.”

Bellamy shook his head to dispel the morose thoughts and continued to argue with Clarke because flirting with her in the grocery story was quickly becoming one of his favorite things. “But just imagine when people come up to you and see the baby and go ‘oh my god who is this’ you can respond with-“

“Nobody,” Clarke finished with a dramatic roll of her eyes as she turned the cart into the next aisle. “You need to get new material.”

“They’re called classics for a reason,” he grumbled and saw someone at the end of the aisle who looked familiar enough he gave her a second look.

Sure enough, it was his ex-girlfriend walking down the same aisle as he and his fake fiancée.

“Bellamy,” she greeted with a smile as she walked towards them. “Hi, how are you doing?”

“I’m great,” Bellamy answered and he wondered if Clarke realized she’d immediately shifted closer to him when she’d realized Gina was walking towards him.

He gave himself a half a second of pretending she was jealous.

“You remember Clarke?”

Gina’s grin widened, “Yeah. Congratulations on the engagement.”

“Thanks, but if I had known it was going to require answering the same questions thirteen times a day I might have said no.”

“And that’s how I know it’s true love,” Bellamy commented wryly. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been great,” she smiled and Bellamy knew her well enough, even after months of not seeing her, to know she was being honest. “And I was so happy to hear you guys got together. Honestly, after we broke up and I had some perspective I couldn’t help but think ‘no wonder Bellamy and I didn’t work, he’s totally in love with Clarke.’”

Bellamy froze and he could feel Clarke stiffen next to him.

“We never-“ Bellamy started, fumbling over the words. “Clarke and I didn’t-“

“Oh, I know,” she laughed. “You can be ass, Bellamy, but you’re not enough of a dick to cheat on anyone.”

“I’m working that into my vows,” Clarke decided with a grin.

“I just meant you guys had a connection. I was little jealous when we were dating because you’d just met Clarke and she seemed to understand you better than I ever did. But some things are just meant to work out a certain way, right?”

Bellamy didn’t know what to say and it seemed Clarke was equally speechless because there was a moment’s pause in the conversation before Gina grinned and leaned forward a little bit. “I have to ask. How did he propose?”

“At two am with a ring from a gumball machine,” Clarke answered with a smile. They’d both agreed when telling the story to leave the copious amounts of alcohol out of it and to keep it vague to prevent them from mixing up their lies.

Gina ‘aw’d’ and he could practically see dancing hearts in her eyes. “Oh my God, that’s so sweet.”

“Jesus,” Bellamy muttered feeling awkward as hell.

With the experience which only came from dating someone, she ignored him. “And the wedding, do you guys have a date yet?”

“We’re going to wait till at least one of us has graduated before we even think about planning or setting a date. At this point I don’t think we’d survive both school and wedding planning.”

“Her mom loves the idea of waiting,” Bellamy added. “She isn’t exactly thrilled so she’s hoping Clarke will eventually come to her senses if given enough time.”

“Why wouldn’t she be thrilled?” Gina asked, so sincerely baffled Bellamy almost wished he’d made it work with her. But then Clarke leaned against his arm and he remembered why he was glad he hadn’t.

“She thinks I’m too young,” Clarke shrugged. “But when I asked her the point of waiting when you found someone whom you knew you were never going to be able to replace or live without she didn’t have a good answer.”

Gina’s smile softened. “I’m glad you found your way to each other, honestly.”

“Thanks, Gina.”

And with promises to catch up later she waved goodbye and headed out of the aisle and when Bellamy looked down at Clarke he saw an amused sort of smile on her face. “What?”

“You guys not working out had nothing to do with us and everything to do with the fact she’s way too good for you.”

“Good thing I found someone at my level, huh?”

“Yep, good thing.” She stared at the cart full of groceries for a moment before looking back at him. “I want pizza.”

“Of course you do.” He slung his arm over her shoulder and together they pushed the cart forward. “When did you tell your mom that? Was it at dinner?”

She nodded. “When you and Marcus got into that very involved conversation about the silk roads. We went to go get dessert and she tried to broach the subject thinking she could use logic to change my mind.”

“Didn’t work, huh?”

Clarke shrugged as they headed down another aisle. “Logic doesn’t do much good when the heart’s involved.”

“No,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to her temple he could feel her lean into. “It really doesn’t.”

And so the next couple of days went.

While they’d had no problems with showing affection in public Clarke hadn’t initiated any kisses since the night at the bar but after the she’d stayed over at his house something changed. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, other than the fact he could no longer count the times she’d kissed him on one hand, but something had changed.

If nothing else, the deadline to break up was coming and neither of them had mentioned what they were going to do about it and if she wasn’t going to bring it up, neither was he.

So they kissed and held hands and generally acted like the happily engaged couple they were pretending to be and whenever they got a chance to spend time together they did. So, when Clarke texted Bellamy saying she’d snagged a private study room he headed towards the library in between classes wondering, if they were really and actually engaged if he could have convinced her to use the room for making out instead of studying.

Distracted by the image that created in his head he almost missed Monty’s distressed voice from the other side of the study room’s door.

“No, we’re not fighting. I wish we were because then I’d at least know what he was thinking. I’m thinking of finding a truth serum, or maybe getting him drunk. He talks more when he’s drunk.”

He heard a soft sound from Clarke which might have been a scoff. “I don’t think that’s the way it works, Monty.”

“Not everyone is like you and Bellamy,” Monty grumbled.

“What do you mean?”

“You guys talk. I mean, even when you’re fighting you guys are still communicating. How do you know he loves you? Does he say it?”

Bellamy’s eyes widened and he should absolutely walk away before he heard the answer. It wasn’t fair to Clarke to listen in on a private conversation and even as he ordered himself to stop listening he was leaning closer to the door.

“No,” Clarke admitted. “But I’m not you, I guess I don’t need to hear it.”

“Then how do you know?”

“God, Monty.”

“Humor me, I’m having a crisis.”

“I know because he takes care of me,” Bellamy heard her answer, sounding slightly exasperated. “Because he knows how to take care of me and only someone who loves you knows how to do that because they care enough pay attention. If I’m having a bad day he knows when to call me on it or when to leave it alone, when I need him to hold me and when to give me my space.”

“Is that why you love him? Because he takes care you?” There was a brief pause during which, if he knew Clarke, she gave him a look. “What? It’s not like you guys are getting married just because the sex is good.”

“Monty,” Clarke began and Monty must have done something to convince her because she answered, her voice hesitant and cautious.

“The first time I ever called him it was after a fight with my mom. He asked me why the hell I was calling him and I told him he was the first person in my contact list which was sort of true. I’d been crying, I could barely see, but the moment I came across his name this sort of calm came over me. When I heard his voice I knew, no matter what happened, everything would be okay and that’s been true ever since. I guess that’s why I love him, because everything is going to be okay as long as Bellamy is there.”

“Including the apocalypse?”

Clarke laughed, “Especially the apocalypse. He’s probably the only one of us who knows how to light a fire without matches.”

Was that it? Bellamy asked himself as he reached for the door of the study room. Did Clarke being in love with him explain why she'd be so free with her affections over the past couple of days? Why she'd seem less stressed and why she hadn't once brought up the fact in a matter of days they were supposed to break up so she could move on with her life? Bellamy pushed open the door then, cursing his wildly hopeful heart even as he greeted them with a smile. “What’s that about the apocalypse?” he asked as he settled into the chair next to Clarke, sitting close enough his leg was pressed against hers.

“We’re all depending on you to keep us alive,” she told him with a bright smile.

He leaned forward and kissed her. “Whatever you say, princess."

#############################

The Saturday afternoon before Bellamy was supposed to escort Clarke to her mother’s gala was spent at his sister’s house, listening to Octavia complain about work. He’d be worried except it was the kind of complaining a person could only accomplish by caring about their job and he was glad that even though she’d decided college wasn’t for her she’d found something which made her happy.

“So, I’ve basically decided to start a mutiny and take over.”

Bellamy nodded as he watched his niece play with dinosaurs on the floor of the living room. “I’ve got some suggestions for strategy if you want.”

“You’re a wealth of knowledge, Bellamy Blake.”

He grinned at her, “I told you all that reading would come in handy someday.”

“I’m not sure how much pirate politics will help me but I do appreciate the sentiment.”

“Pirates aren’t the only ones who mutiny,” he corrected but Octavia held her hand up to stop him before he explained any further.

“I’d be more interested in how things are going with you and Clarke than the history of mutiny, how’s the dare going?”

“Good, she’s in love with me.”

He appreciated she didn’t look surprised by the announcement, instead she looked impressed and a little pleased. “Nice, she told you?”

“No, she told Monty and I overheard her talking to him.”

Octavia made a face, “Are you sure she wasn’t just playing the part?”

Bellamy shook his head. It had crossed his mind, but he knew Clarke better than anyone else on the planet. He knew what she sounded like when she was being honest, there was no way what she’d said was anything but the unvarnished truth. “I can’t explain how I know, but I know she wasn’t acting.”

“Okay,” she agreed cautiously. “So what are you going to do about it?”

“I’m going to tell her I love her,” and wasn’t it amazing the answer was as simple as all that? He’d almost done it a half dozen times since he’d overheard her conversation with Monty but he thought something this important, this big, deserved its own moment. He didn’t want it to happen while they were waiting in line for coffee at the school cafe.

“Sounds like a good plan, when?”

“Her mom is making us go to some political event tonight,” Bellamy answered, having come up with the idea shortly after making the decision to tell her. “If I work it right I can turn it into our first official date.”

“And it’ll be romantic. What?” she asked when Bellamy gave her a surprised look. “I don’t hate romance.”

“I didn’t say you did.”

“Your face did,” she argued. “I’m just saying, you in a tux, her in a dress, champagne, dancing. It’s a good moment, Bellamy.”

“What?”

“What?”

“There’s a but in your voice,” he pointed out.

“It’s just…I’m curious, you tell Clarke you love her, she says she loves you, you kiss. Then what? You start dating while the rest of the world, including all of our friends, think you’re engaged?”

Bellamy mimicked the face Octavia had given him. “One hurdle at a time, O. I’m more focused on getting through the ‘I love you’ part right without making a fool of myself.”

“How are you going to do it?” she asked as she used her foot to slide a wayward dinosaur back towards her daughter.

“I have an idea,” he admitted though it needed some refining and inspiration didn’t hit till he was getting ready for the gala. Using the phone’s speaker as he finished getting ready to go, he called Raven.

When she answered with a distracted hey he automatically glanced down at the phone. “You’re not at Clarke’s, are you?”

“No.”

“You’re going to the mucky-muck thing tonight, right?”

“Yeah, as one of the people who got a scholarship I’m kind of required to go and be on display as this year’s charity case. Wick should be here soon to pick me up.”

Bellamy was surprised enough by her admission he was sidetracked. “You invited the engineer?”

“Yeah, since you and Clarke are going to be making the rounds together I needed someone else to make fun of rich people with.”

“Bet he looks good in a tux,” Bellamy commented casually. “You’re not going to jump him in the parking lot are you?”

There was a moment of pointed silence to let Bellamy know she wasn’t dignifying him with a response. “What did you want?”

“I’m going to tell Clarke how I feel tonight and I had an idea but I’d need your help to pull it off.”

“Am I locking you two in a closet together?”

Bellamy glanced down at his phone as he fixed his tie before checking it in the mirror. “No, and I’m a little concerned that’s your first idea.”

Her laugh was a little wicked and wild and Bellamy absently wondered if Wick knew what he was getting himself into. “Obviously you don’t know how much fun you can have in a closet.”

“No, but thank God I have you to let me know what I’m missing out on.”

He could practically hear her smile in her voice, as affectionate as it was amused. “What would you do without me?”

“I tremble to think of it,” he remarked wryly. “Are you going to help me or not?”

“Of course I am, tell me what you need me to do.”

#############################

Clarke wasn’t nervous when she opened the door and smiled at Bellamy as he stood on her front steps. There was something about knowing how you feel, about accepting it and reveling in it instead of running away from it which gave her a kind of confidence she didn’t know she could possess.

She was wearing a one shoulder, navy blue dress which was all beauty and seduction with a high slit, framed on either side with dark blue sequins. The silver bracelets and heavy earrings her side-do revealed were nothing compared to all the skin being teased by the shape of the dress.

“Wow.”

She smiled, framed by the doorway and the bright lights behind her. “I think that’s the most unqualified compliment you’ve ever given me.”

His eyes swept over her once, twice, a third time. “Did I ever tell you blue is my favorite color?”

“It is?”

“It definitely is now.”

She laughed, rich and throaty and then she stepped forward, a flash of thigh sliding through the silk and she watched his eyes focus on the reveal of skin.

“Holy shit princess, I think you’re trying to kill me. No one is going to believe I’d agree to break up with you.”

There was a warm blush on her cheeks as she shut the door behind her, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah,” but he didn’t move as she walked down the steps, instead he just continued to stare at her. “You look like a princess, princess.”

She smiled and tugged on the thin tie and the phrase ‘kissing handles’ popped into her head, even though she couldn’t remember where she’d heard the phrase. “You make a pretty good prince charming yourself, Bellamy.”

Reaching up she touched the ends of his hair, “I’m glad you didn’t slick it back.”

“Raven told me not to.”

Laughing she slipped her arm through his, “Remind me to thank her later.”

“Give it ten minutes, she’s probably already there with her engineer.”

“She’s actually going?” Clarke asked, surprised as Bellamy opened her door for her. “I would have bet money on her finding a way to get out of it.”

“I think she wanted to see Wick all dressed up.” He tilted his head as he studied her. “That’s why you women make us go to these things, isn’t it? For eye candy.”

Clarke grabbed his tie again and pulled him forward for a kiss because he was there and why not? “You’ve figured out our master plan, now what?”

“Absolutely nothing,” he told her and leaned forward to kiss her again. It was liquid and warm and she happily slid into the heady sensations, not caring if he was ruining her lipstick or if they were running late.

“We should go,” he murmured against her lips.

“Mhm,” she agreed but instead wrapped her arms around his neck and allowed seconds and minutes and hours to pass with nothing else existing except for his mouth on hers and his hands sliding over the silk warm from her skin.

In his pocket his phone vibrated.

“Ignore it,” she ordered and sighed when he pulled away to pull his cell out.

“It’s Raven asking where we are,” he told her with an apologetic smile. “Come on, princess, the ball awaits.”

“The ball can suck ass,” she muttered as she slid into her seat.

“God, you’re like a fairy tale princess. I don’t know how I resisted you all these years.”

Clarke laughed as Bellamy walked around the car and once they were on the road he reached across the console and took her hand. “How long do we have to stay at this thing?”

“Two hours, tops.”

“And there’s alcohol?”

“Yes.”

“Thank God.”

The hotel where the gala was being held wasn’t far and Bellamy fumbled for a second when asked for the keys to his car by the valet but sooner than Clarke would have liked they were inside the glittering ballroom surrounded by people dressed to the nines and already sipping on expensive booze.

She wondered how difficult it would be to sneak a drink without her mother noticing.

“You guys look hot,” Raven greeted them as soon as she got close enough to be heard. “Hold still, I’m taking a picture.”

Clarke stepped close to Bellamy and they smiled into the phone’s camera as Raven took a series of pics before holding out the phone. “Wick and I also look hot, take picture of us will you? Not you Bellamy, you take terrible pictures.”

Clarke grinned at Bellamy and together they watched Wick put his arm around Raven before he leaned towards her to whisper something in her ear which made her laugh and Clarke captured the moment with Raven’s phone.

Before giving it back she showed Bellamy the picture of them, “We look pretty good together.”

“Definitely hotter than Wick and Raven,” Bellamy agreed with a grin.

“Shut up,” Raven glared as she took the phone from Clarke. “I’m going to-“ her words cut off sharply when her eyes focused on something over Clarke’s shoulder. Turning around Clarke reached for Bellamy’s hand as the sight of Fin talking to someone she didn’t recognize across the room.

From the corner of her eye she saw Wick run his hand down Raven’s arm and wrap his fingers around hers. Again he whispered into her ear and she nodded, sending a small wave to Clarke and Bellamy before allowing herself to be led away.

“I hope she lets him love her,” Bellamy murmured. Clarke looked up at him, surprised at the level of emotion in his voice. “She deserves to be happy and I think he can do that if she lets him.”

“You’ve got a good heart, Bellamy Blake.”

He leaned down and kissed her, “Don’t go spreading that around, I’ve got a reputation to protect.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” she promised.

Bellamy glanced at Fin who was not so discretely watching them. “You know, we can always find a place to make-out where we know he’ll see us.”

“You’re joking but I’m half a minute from taking you up on that offer.”

“I can wait thirty seconds,” he assured her.

“Make it a half an hour, my mother’s on her way over here and she’s going to introduce us to a lot of people.”

Bellamy looked up to see Abby Griffin walking towards them in a blood red dress. “I’m going to need alcohol for this. A lot of alcohol.”

Clarke saw a passing waiter and grabbed two glasses of champagne. “Here’s to making it to the end of the night.”

“I deserve a reward for this,” he muttered into his glass.

“The evening’s still young,” she grinned with a wink.

She laughed when he nearly choked on the champagne. “You’re the devil Clarke Griffin.”

“I try,” she assured him as she looped her arm around his. “Come on, let’s get this over this.”

The introductions felt endless but Bellamy, it turned out, was shockingly good at small talk and when she’d confronted him about it he admitted that with his intention of going into the non-profit sector there was a lot of schmoozing in his future.

“I figure this is good practice for kissing ass to get donations for good causes.”

“That’s why you really want to marry me, isn’t it? For my connections.”

“Yeah, you’re a terrible kisser and not much to look at so it’s definitely for the connections,” he retorted with a roll of his eyes. “Want to dance?” he asked almost as an afterthought and with a nod he led her to the dance floor. She rested her hand on his shoulder as he took her other hand, his arm around her waist to pull her in close.

For a moment they just swayed together.

“So I have a confession to make.”

She looked up to meet his gaze, “Sounds serious.”

“You may be seriously pissed at me,” he admitted. “But I’m hoping you’ll refrain from kicking my ass until I finish.”

“I make no promises, but I’ll certainly try to refrain from hurting you in public.”

“Thanks.”

“Confession?” she prompted when he didn’t say anything after a few seconds.

“Just getting up the courage,” he told her with a wry smile. “I heard you and Monty, the other day at the library.”

“Oh my God.”

Instead of punching him she dropped her arms and moved as if to walk off the dance floor but Bellamy grabbed her arm. His grip loose enough she could shake him off if she wanted, but she turned her back to face him.

“Please, let me finish.” He waited to make sure she was listening before he took a deep breath and barreled forward. “It wasn’t fair of me to listen to you and Monty talking and by the time I realized what you were talking about it was kind of too late. So in order to make things fair I’m going to do the same thing.”

“Same thing?” she repeated inanely and watched as Bellamy nodded and looked over at Raven who had been watching them from a few feet away. Seeing him she stepped away from Wick and when she got closer to the couple she put a hand on Clarke’s arm before turning to Bellamy.

“How do you know Clarke loves you?”

Clarke had a vivid flash of Monty asking her the same question and she wasn’t sure what she was going to say but she opened her mouth to say _something_ but Bellamy cut her off with a shake of his head.

“It’s not fair if I don’t answer,” he reminded her then turned to look at Raven and Clarke was pretty certain the whole night was some sort of weird nightmare/dream. She was probably asleep on her couch because Bellamy was running late.

Yeah, that sounded like a thing.

“I know Clarke loves me because she trusts me. She doesn’t let herself be vulnerable with just anyone so I know that when she lets herself be vulnerable with me, whether it be because she’s angry or sad or happy, it’s because she trusts me to be there for her. And Clarke doesn’t trust without love.”  

“Is that why you love her?” Raven asked, paralleling the question Monty had asked Clarke and it clicked for her that Bellamy had pulled his best friend into this scheme of his. “Because you trust her?”

“The reason I love her is because I could look at her from across the room and she would just know. She would know if I was angry or annoyed or amused. She would know how to talk me out of a bad idea, or into a good one. She knows my entire history and instead of dismissing the things I’ve done she simply accepts them. The reason I love Clarke is because she knows me. She knows me like no one in my life ever has.”

Clarke was speechless for a full ten seconds but when she finally looked at Bellamy she could think of only one thing to say: “You are such a jackass.”

“Excuse me?”

Raven laughed and took a step back, “That sounds like my cue. Good luck, guys.”

“How am I jackass?” he asked as he turned to face her.

“You heard me admit I love you and you waited a _week_ before telling me you love me too? What the hell were you waiting for?”

“The right moment,” he snapped but before she could yell at him more he grabbed her arm led her away from the crowds and down the hall until he found an open conference room which looked like it had been used for the set up.

“The right moment?” she nearly spit at him. “How was this the right moment?”

“It was supposed to be romantic,” he informed her dryly.

“Oh sure,” she threw up her hands. “Professing your love in front of a hundred people we’ve never met before is totally romantic.”

“It was hardly in front of a hundred people,” he argued. “It was more next to a hundred people and I was more focused on the fact it was the first time we ever danced with each other, really danced, because no offense, I don’t count that night at the bar. I was thinking you looked beautiful and I’m wearing a goddamn tux for you and that you, _princess_ , deserved a little fucking magic after the shit show your last few relationships consisted of.”

“Magic?” she asked cautiously.

“You in a dress,” he answered with a shrug. “Me in a tux, champagne and dancing. It was supposed to be romantic.”

“When did it happen?”

“When did what happen?” he asked, exasperated.

“Falling in love with me, when did it happen?”

“Fuck if I know Clarke, I just am.”

Clarke laughed and something about his irritation made everything in her go calm because this was Bellamy. This was _her_ Bellamy and while she appreciated the attempt at romance, it was never really their style. “You love me?”

“A little less now than I did five minutes ago, but yes, for better or worse.”

“Say it,” she challenged.

“Say what?”

“You said why you loved me,” she explained. “But you didn’t actually say the words.”

“Neither have you,” he pointed out.

Clarke crossed her arms and studied Bellamy a few feet away from her and while she couldn’t remember exactly why it mattered, she thought it was important he said the words first.

With a sound which reminded Clarke suspiciously like a growl he stuck his hands in his pockets and all but glared at her. “I love you.”

Grinning she threw herself at him, and he barely got his hands free in time to catch her and when she pulled him towards her to kiss him he put a hand on lips.

“Your turn.”

She grabbed his hand and moved it away from her mouth so she could speak clearly. “I love you, too.”

“Fucking finally,” he muttered and kissed her.

Kissed her like it was the first time, the last time, the only time. She didn’t believe in fairy tales and she certainly didn’t believe she was any kind of princess, no matter what Bellamy called her, but she thought this was the kind of kiss which could wake anyone from any curse the universe could come up with it.

His hands slid down her body while her fingers buried themselves in his hair and she couldn’t get close enough. She wanted more, needed more and when his name escaped her lips in a kind of plea Bellamy grabbed her hips and lifted her up to sit on the edge of the table.

“I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you since,” but he didn’t finish the sentence, his lips busy trailing down the length of her neck.

“Me too,” she agreed breathlessly and because he was taking too long she took one of his hands and placed it high on her thigh, bared by the slit of her dress. His hand gripped her hard enough she thought he might leave a bruise but she couldn’t find it in her to care as he pulled back to look at her with such heat in his eyes she half expected to find burns on her skin.

“You sure?” he asked and Clarke didn’t have a chance to nod before the door opened and a hotel employee walked in, stopping dead in their tracks at the sight of Clarke on a table and Bellamy standing between her legs with his hands on her skin.

“Sorry we’re, uh,” Clarke started but the words to explain what they were doing wouldn’t come because it was pretty damn obvious what they’d been up to seconds before the employee interrupted.

“Recently engaged,” Bellamy filled in.

“Right. We got a little carried away.”

“The door doesn’t lock,” was the employee’s only reply before they turned and walked back out the door.

Clarke started laughing as the door clicked shut. “Maybe we should leave.”

Bellamy nodded and helped Clarke slide off the table, his fingers tangling with hers as he looked down at her. “My place?”

“Your place.”

They stumbled into his apartment and when Bellamy reached up to frame her face his fingers got caught on her earring and Clarke felt a nervous giggle escape her lips. “Hold on, let me get rid of some of this jewelry.”

She turned around and took off her earrings, the bracelets still hanging from her wrists, and dropped them on the end table. Turning around she sat on the wooden surface and began to undo the straps of her shoes and was briefly distracted by Bellamy taking off his tux jacket and then his tie.

Why was that so sexy it made her knees weak?

“I’m totally going to lose.”

Bellamy looked up from kicking off his shoes. “What?”

Walking towards him in her bare feet she reached for the buttons of his shirt and figuring it was a rental she resisted the urge to rip the buttons to get to the skin underneath.

She wanted to touch him, to feel his skin against hers, but patience was a virtue wasn’t it? After all, they’d waited years to get to this point, a few more minutes wouldn’t kill her.

“I made a bet with Raven she would sleep with Wick before I slept with you so I’m totally going to lose," she explained. Now halfway through the buttons she rewarded herself by running her fingertips along his sternum, absently wondering how many freckles she’d find beneath his clothes. 

Bellamy grinned, slow and more than a little wicked as he grabbed the back of his shirt collar and pulled it over his head, throwing it in the general direction of the couch. “Trust me princess, you’re totally winning.”

She rolled her eyes at his boasting but then he was kissing her again, using his fingers to pull the bobby pins out of her hair till it was falling down her back. "You're stunning, Clarke."

"Wait till you see what's underneath it."

His jaw clenched, as if he was trying to get himself under control, but she could see the heat in his eyes as he reached for her. Turning her he pressed her against the wall, pushing aside her hair so he could follow the path of her spine with his teeth and tongue. Clarke pressed her hands against the wall when she felt his fingers at the zipper of her dress, bit her lip to keep from begging. And then finally, _finally_ , he was dragging the zipper down and she shifted her shoulder so the single strap fell down her arm, allowing the dress to pull at her feet.

She turned in his arms, his hands braced on either side of her head as if he couldn't quite trust himself to touch her yet.

"What do you think?"

His eyes raked over her and every frustrating minute she'd spent trying to find a sexy strapless bra in her size was worth it because when he touched her it was with a kind of reverence which made her heart melt in her chest.

"I think," he said slowly as his fingers followed the lines of the bra, then the curve of her hips. "The less you're wearing the more beautiful you get."

It should have been a cheesy line, it should have made her roll her eyes, but instead she heard a wistful sort of sigh which could only have come from her. "You make me weak, Bellamy. No one's ever made me weak before."

He shifted on his feet and before she knew what he was doing he was sweeping her off her feet and she felt a decidedly feminine flutter in her stomach at the way he had lifted her with barely a sound. She pressed her lips to his jaw, his neck, his shoulders, anywhere she could reach as he carried her to his bedroom and set her down on the bed. When he followed, she instinctively spread her legs so he fit between her thighs and while all the important parts were lined up there were far too many clothes in the way.

"You're wearing more than I am," she pointed out, reaching for his belt as he kissed her over and over and over again.

"We'll get to that," he promised. Even as he brushed hands away, his own fingers dipped beneath the lace of her underwear. "I've got some things I want cross off on my to-do list first."

It was amazing he could make her laugh even as he touched her. "Care to share what's on the list?"

He looked up, his hair mussed, his eyes so dark they looked bottomless, and for a moment she thought she'd do anything he asked. "It's a long list," he finally told her, his voice tight. "Take off your bra, princess."

She narrowed her eyes at the order but she wanted to get rid of the thing anyway so she took it off and tossed it to the side and then his mouth was on her breasts, and to her frustration they'd never been very sensitive and seeming to realize she wasn't getting much out of the sensation Bellamy mouthed his way down her torso, his teeth nipped at hips, all the while his fingers worked her to a quiet desperation.

If he was waiting for her to beg, the idiot would have a long time to wait.

Instead he came back to her lips and kissed her again, and she heard the words 'i love you' brush against her skin right before she heard the lace of her very expensive underwear snap.

"You're buying me a new pair," she informed him primly, an order which was undermined by the fact she gasped his name when he knelt between her legs and kissed her where she was wet and wanting. Her heels dug into the mattress while she gripped fistfuls of sheets, Bellamy's hands on her hips to try and keep her still.

Fingers, tongue, and lips were all used to drive her up and up but never over, she thought she heard Bellamy whisper words, hot and sexy, against her skin but through the blood pounding in her ears she couldn't be sure.

"Bellamy."

It wasn't a beg, she told her self as one hand gripped his hair firmly in her fist.

"Say it, princess."

She didn't have to ask what he meant, she knew what he wanted to hear.

"I love you."

And in the next instant she rushed over the edge so violently she thought she might have screamed.

Then he was there, leaning over her and kissing her as she came down from the high. "Well, that was the first thing on my list," he informed her with a grin which was almost smug enough to make her want to hit him. "Do you think you can handle the rest?"

Unwilling to let him have all the control- or all the fun- Clarke reached for the belt of his pants again, loosened it enough she could slip her hand beneath the slacks and his boxer briefs and watched with a great deal of pleasure as his eyes nearly went cross. "You're not the only one with a list."

"You're going to kill me, Clarke."

"Good, we'll kill each other together."

With a laugh he kissed her and together they got him out of his pants, got a condom to keep handy and spent the next twenty minutes trying to see who could make the other beg first.

Three orgasms and a post-coital make out session later they agreed on a tie. Shortly after, when Bellamy's breath was slow and steady in sleep Clarke tip toed through Bellamy’s apartment until she located her little clutch and the phone tucked inside. She walked back to the bedroom and settled next to Bellamy on the bed before pulling up the camera on her phone.

She took a partial selfie with Bellamy’s sleeping face taking up most of the frame and sent it to Raven with a follow up text.

YOU WON.

A few seconds later Clarke got a picture of a sleeping Wick with the caption ‘LET'S CALL IT A TIE’ but as Clarke snuggled against Bellamy's bare chest, his arms automatically coming around her in sleep she had to silently argue with her friend.

She totally, totally won.

Not that she'd tell Bellamy that, his head was big enough as it was.


End file.
